


She's Out of My League

by OmACAgee



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Bartender Beca, Basketball AU, Comedy, F/F, Famous kinda Chloe, Funny dense and insecure Beca, Miami Heat Dancer Chloe, Romance, hella au, two shot series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 41,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9278006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OmACAgee/pseuds/OmACAgee
Summary: Beca Mitchell works as a bartender with her best friend, Stacie Conrad in Gainesville, Florida. At best, she comes off as an average working girl who is enjoying her life as she makes enough money to pursue her dreams at becoming a music producer. She meets the prime example of the perfect woman during a late night shift and thanks to her lack of confidence, it gets in the way of starting a potential relationship with the girl of her dreams.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Twoshot Bechloe/Staubrey piece that I never ended up finishing and honestly, I don't know why, because it was so much fun to write! Updating will for sure start to become less frequent, thanks to softball season and college starting back up this week. So, I wanted to give you guys a little something extra before I suck at updating :)
> 
> Also. I didn't know what to rate this because even though there's no smut, there's heavy talk in alcohol and language is pretty mature. SO, I went with my gut...and you've been warned just now if any of those trigger you.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it! Follow me on Tumblr (OmACAgee) for updates and all that jazz, or to just talk :)
> 
> (I DO NOT OWN PITCH PERFECT NOR THE SONGS MENTIONED)

Beca Mitchell isn't much of a _somebody_ , to say the least.

She lived an ordinary childhood; she was an only child living with her mom and dad in the most northeastern state on the US map, Maine, Portland to be exact, where the only good thing to come out of the state other than the jagged, rocky coastline would be a local seafood cuisine restaurant that served _thee_ best lobster on the planet, as well as the mighty moose you'd encounter more often than not (which was as exciting as the place got).

She participated in the normal life that a young child should be living; she went (was forced) into school and did all the boring school things that would cause her to get the occasional red star by her name, which meant she was naughty, probably not listening and involved in her own little conversations while the teacher talked about addition and wasn't a well behaved (teacher's pet) student like Emily Jones was, who always received the _gold_ stars, because she kissed ass and ratted other students out because she believed that she was the absolute _best_ of the _best_.

Cough, cough, **bitch**.

Eventually after lots of red stars, timeouts and show in tells where she would bring a bag of goldfish, call it it good and definitely _not_ share with the other kids (especially mega dick, Emily) Beca made it pass the Hell hole they called elementary school and soon found out that Emily and all her bullshit she brought to the table was only child's play compared to what she experienced in the middle school hallways.

Here, she continued getting in trouble because _dammit_ , she had a reputation to uphold and once she found out that sports and doing anything athletic wise was a big **no** in her book after she broke her nose playing softball when she took a ball to the face and bled to death, then broke her wrist playing soccer (which doesn't make any fucking sense at all because you _LITERALLY USE YOUR FEET,_ hence why she stopped trying to play anything sporty) she figured that trips going to the principal's office was a lot easier than trips to the emergency room and then getting scolded for hours was something she was surprisingly good at.

Though middle school was a less of an awful nightmare than what high school was for her, the one and only good thing that came out weekly trips to the principal's office where she'd call her dad, he'd come red in the face, yell the same "check yourself" speech at her that she could recite word for word and no doubt backwards if needed too was that she met her first, real friend on those benches sitting outside of principal Thomson's office, who was waiting to get lectured about how making boys give away their snacks at lunch for a kiss was not acceptable behavior.

Beca, however, thought it was hilarious.

After a stunt pulled off like that, that wonderful, borderline prostitute's-which was someone who Beca learned about later in her life-name was Stacie and they became friends instantly when Stacie helped her out with some math problems the next time they got in trouble and she soon found out that this busty beauty was a tiny genius and would be a great asset to keep her grades up to at least a C average. Also, Stacie was like this awkwardly tall and lengthy looking giraffe with huge boobs for a thirteen year old and someone that Beca surprisingly felt comfortable with and together they became inseparable.

Little did she know that once high school rolled around and a month spent apart during their sophomore year summer that Stacie would come back from her Bahamas cruise vacation with her parents and grow twenty sizes (both legs and cups) and look like she just spent the whole month of July at a Victoria's Secret photo shoot. Yeah, that was a hard one to explain to people when rolling up together through the high school hallways where they'd constantly ask what a hottie and total babe like Stacie was doing hanging out with an antisocial, sarcastic and grumpy little grinch like Beca.

But Stacie didn't care what people thought, or how they desperately tried to steer her in the right direction of the "popular" clique of high school stereotypes, which included a lot of cheerleaders, sport jocks and student council members rather than the "unpopular" clique, normally referred to as the _weirdos_ , which Beca fell under, according to them.

And even though Stacie played volleyball which was considered a "popular" sport full of tall, "popular" bimbos at their school and Beca had to go to _every. single._ home game in the books to cheer on amazon legs, she labeled Beca and herself as best friends, who would grow old together, buy houses directly next to each other and if all else fails as far as significant others, they'd adopt a child and raise it together.

There were many reasons why Beca liked and connected with Stacie so much during their school years spent together. She was never really good at the whole _friend_ thing and she even thought at times her relationship with Stacie would soon be doomed because she just wasn't good at expressing herself and sharing with others how she felt and wasn't really the sympathetic type of gal.

But slowly but surely, all that changed when that tall drink of water stumbled up into her life and forced the term communication and friendship out like a pimple.

Stacie was different; she was really funny with a great sense of humor and had _phenomenal_ taste in music, which is a _must_ quality for Beca Mitchell. She's also super smart and always pushed Beca in school to achieve good grades when all _Beca_ wanted to do was rebel against her father for leaving her and her mom alone after finding a new woman named Sheila, who was and _is_ the literal worst.

And even though Stacie transformed into the _horniest_ human being on the face of this Earth once she experimented with the big three letter word, **sex** , Stacie never left Beca like her dad did and never once even thought about doing it.

As cheesy as it sounds, Stacie is her rock; she was the one to help coach Beca through her sexual confusion period when one day they were at a swim park and Stacie flaunting around in a bikini, showing off her golden skin, exposed cleavage and legs that ran for days made Beca feel the exact definition of _some type of way._

And then those thoughts evolved into more descriptive thoughts about other females and it became one giant mess of confusing thoughts that made her very angry for a long period of her high school career.

She never felt attracted to Stacie because all the years spent together, she considered the girl part of the family, but she forsure felt something regarding lots of colorful thoughts towards the same sex gender that she didn't know what to do with. Stacie and her extreme level of attractiveness just helped her appreciation for girls (boobs) through it, because anyone with a pair of working eyes would agree that Stacie is the complete package of sexy, with her brains and smoking body.

And Stacie; a girl who dipped their toes in the lady pond at a high school party and actually also had the same confusing thoughts as Beca did, walked her through her own acceptance and that it was _normal_ to have these feelings for girls, even when it it felt like it wasn't.

One label happened after another once Stacie came out as bisexual to her parents and Beca finally admitted to herself and her mom that she was bisexual, as well, when she brought home her first girlfriend that, long story short, cheated on her which is a quick month story she'd rather not get into.

From there on out after Stacie received the title of valedictorian and Beca passed all her classes with a solid 3.0 average, as well as stayed out of trouble except for a few mishaps, their relationship got stronger by the day and they soon found themselves moving to Florida together to get a head start on their futures.

Which leads us to today where Stacie, going into her third year, is a full time student attending the University of Florida, with a full ride scholarship as she studies Biophysics and Chemistry and ruins her entire social life while Beca went the complete other route once they moved and has decided to focus on her music rather than school, like her father literally _begged_ her to do.

But something about him leaving and betraying her rang several bells inside her head and she refused to go to school because she felt like she didn't owe him anything. Not even a phone call to explain that she was moving down to Florida with her best friend to pursue her music career that he wasn't so fond of, claiming it was just a “hobby” and not a profession.

So that's that.

The whole spiel of the past and how they got to where they are today….Oh shoot!

Also something that hasn't been mentioned is that since Beca and Stacie have rented out a nice, cozy apartment in Gainesville, Florida and Stacie is a college student-which really needs no explanation by itself- making money somehow was a _must_. Luckily for them on the first week of scouting out jobs, a small, not too flashy bar called Blackbird Ordinary had openings for bartenders and after getting use to the gist of making all sorts of different drinks, they landed themselves two positions working mostly night shifts, which now leads to tonight, three years later as Beca makes her fifth, sex on the beach and a plate of kamikaze shots for a group of local college students on their night out away from the books.

Cutting up the lemons in halves that accompanies even more sourness to the shot, Beca delivers the plate to the group of students, places the orders on their tab and snickers amused under her breath while watching from the distance as this guy's face morphs and twists into a painful mess once the extreme sourness hits his tastebuds.

Shaking her head and wiping the spilt mess over the bar's table where no one was sitting at, she mutters a "amateur" under her breath and tosses the newly dirty rag into the sink behind her. "Blow out the burn buddy," she mutters out to them, crossing her arms above her chest as she now watches a different guy wail and roar after swallowing the shot, clearly keeping the sour alcohol in his mouth a lot longer than he should've and most definitely doesn't blow out the burn.

She'd know, _of course_ , after being a bartender for three years, people buying her drinks of all different kinds is a frequent thing and she needed to build a tolerance to all the shitty beverages handed her way, unless she'd never make it.

Stacie comes up around the corner, wearing the mandatory crew outfit; a black t-shirt with a white bird logo on the front and a pair of white jean shorts to match and slides her body up close to Beca leaning on the counter. "We need to _Coyote_ _Ugly_ this place," she comments with a huff and Beca for a second thinks she's joking, but finds out soon when she turns to face the taller girl and sees Stacie scanning the ceiling, tables, and venue of the whole bar like she’s mentally building everything together that she's everything _but_ joking.

Wouldn't be much of a shock if Stacie is planning on the best place to build a stripper pole.

Beca nudges her hip into Stacie's, shaking her head with a laugh before moving to the alcohol collection and places the unscrewed lids to their designated drink. "Okay, no. This is Florida, not Manhattan, and you'd be the only one who's sexy enough to entertain these drunken hooligans with today's pop karaoke while dancing on top of the tables."

Stacie scoffs out loud hearing this, whipping herself around to hop on top of the bar table to sit and cross her arms above her cross as she watches Beca organize the alcohol from behind. "We _both_ would be the sexy barmaids who sing on top of tables and break up bar fights with our sexy bodies and melodic voices."

" _Okay_ ," Beca mocks incredulously. "Cause we have so many bar fights. Luke keeps this place locked up mad good and the vibe here is as harmless as a kitten."

Especially tonight as it's an easy, not too busy and mostly laid back kind of Thursday night that Beca lives for, except for the absence of tips she'd usually get on a busy, crowded bar, with a line out the doors consisting of the party animals on a Friday or Saturday night.

"Touche, but hear me out." Beca rolls her eyes before Stacie even has the chance to spill out anymore nonsense about her delusional vision that she has obviously mustered up inside her head because of an early 2000's movie. "Do you realize the size crowd we'd bring in if we were to toss out these baggy, hobo clothes for some tight leather and exposing tank tops, jump up on this table and spray each other with our beer guns?" Stacie smacks a beat on top of the table before running her hand in circles. 

Beca finishes her task to organize all the alcohol and twists her body around to face a determined, deadpan Stacie who looks seconds away from bulldozing the entire lot and creating her own eastern, rock n roll style bar. First of all, she doesn't even know why Stacie is so set about this when Blackbird is a lowkey, chill and very modern bar that has a freaking DJ booth for crying out loud. At the very least, they have a few pool tables that'd meet the country style scene, but literally that's it.

"You by yourself brings in a _shit ton_ of customers." Beca wiggles an accusing finger over Stacie's breast region. Even though they wear the most unappealing, casual t-shirts as dress code, Stacie and her goddess like facial structures, flirty personality and extremely tiny shorts that could pass as underwear show off every inch of skin and flexed muscle on her spider legs brings in about five times the amount of tips that Beca does, which is only a slight jab to her ego and self esteem, but no big deal.

 _Jesus_ , Beca can't even imagine the crowd they'd have if Stacie was allowed to show off her boobs, though it's only a matter of time before she works around something with this oversized t-shirt and transforms it into a crop top.

"But we could bring in _more_ ," Stacie legitimately whines this, with a childish stomp to her foot and even the eyeroll Beca is cooking up doesn't suffice for Stacie's level of dramatics.

"Yay, I _love_ people. That's exactly what we need," Beca snorts sarcastically as she takes the new guy's order sitting down and continues, "why don't you run that by our boss, I'm sure he'd love to change the scene, turn our get up into promiscuous clothing and start a karaoke contest while we waste all our booze wetting each other with it." Beca throws the new guy at the bar an evil eye when his face is seen lighting up at the idea, instead of saying that she'll spit in his drink like she wanted to if he continued egging Stacie on.

With perfect timing and overhearing the conversation as he briefly walks by, Luke casually drops by a "not going to happen, Conrad," then continues along his way to avoid Stacie's begging pleas because he knows that's what was about to come spilling out her mouth the moment he shot down her _fabulous_ idea.

Blending together a perfectly proportioned martini drink for her good ol' friend she just met, Beca slides the glass drink across the table to land directly in front of the guy without a single spill. When she receives a skeptical glance and a full examination of the drink, she assures to Paranoid Pat that it's indeed spit free.

Beca takes the mixer and walks her way over to Stacie, but ends up stopping short when she sees that Stacie happens to be engaged in her own conversation with a well known regular named Jake, who hands down has the biggest and most _obvious_ crush on giraffe legs herself. Seeing Beca's presence appearing from over Stacie's shoulder, Jake curves a welcoming smile and lifts up his hand to wave.

Stacie, not able to turn around quick enough to see Beca twisting up a nearby wet rag into a rat tail to smack her with, yelps high pitched in pain when she feels the immediate burn to her left cheek when the whip snaps over her skin.

"Sup, Jake?" Beca says casually, as if she had no part participating in the act that just caused Stacie to hiss at the newly formed, bright red mark on her skin just under her shorts. However, she does take pride in the end result at her perfectly manufactured rat tail.

Bitting the inside of his cheek not to laugh at this,"oh nothing, just talking to Stacie about the Miami Heat's game Saturday night." Jake stretches a megawatt smile with his perfect set of teeth that truly shows how excited he is about the date he scored with Stacie after begging nonstop until she had to say yes.

Beca really didn't understand why it was such a hassle for Stacie to say yes to him; Jake is a good looking guy, with his dirty blonde hair that lengths about medium wise, a pair of dark blue eyes and, like, _perfectly_ smooth, bronze skin from being outside on the beach so much. He's even on the more muscular and toned side of choices to choose from that Stacie is notorious for being attracted too, not a lot, but definitely has more muscle than most guys. Maybe it was because if she were to wear heels on this _so-called_ date, she'd definitely be taller than the boy.

Which is kind of the breaking point since Stacie came out of her mother's womb wearing heels and _demanded_ a guy to be taller than her, unless it was a girl she was after. Something about it being cute hugging a smaller girl; it kind of makes her feel superior and tough. With a guy, she just feels even more freakishly tall than she already is.

"God, you're such a bitch sometimes," Stacie finally grumbles out, annoyed, as she tries to twist her head around far enough to take a look at the impressive size welt she's now sporting on her left asscheek.

Expertly ignoring Stacie as she leans her elbows up on the bar counter in front of Jake to continue their conversation, she scrunches her nose in disgust at the mention of basketball. " _Ew_ , why are you going to a basketball game? I'd rather go on the cliche, ' _I'm not really romantic, nor creative enough to think of something better'_ date than to sit and watch a bunch of sweaty dudes toss around a ball for a couple of hours."

Hating basketball comes off as an understatement to her. A word that does a better job at expressing her true feelings towards the sport would be _despises_ it, maybe even _loathes_ ranks high in her list of descriptions. Both equally good and does a great job at expressing her true feelings towards any type of sport in general.

It's really nothing personal against the sport and no offence to anyone who loves to watch and play basketball, but for her, she doesn't see the point of it- _all_ sports, that is and can barely stomach them. Music is more her style-more her thing to do and worship herself to. At least with making music there's nothing sweaty about it.

Except dancing.

But she wouldn't really know because that's a whole other conversation filled with a lot more brutal opinions that she just doesn't want, nor has the time to get into right this second.

Jake gives her a kind of puzzled expression that makes it seem like she has been talking in a foreign language this whole time and a little bit like she's a total crazy person who is losing their mind by the unpleasant knit to his brows. "Aren't you…” he pauses and shakes his head uncertainly, “Aren't you going with us?"

"Um _what_?" Beca says this through a wary type of smile thing she has going on that resembles one a psycho maniac would make, clearly thinking that she must've misheard this dude because it seemed like he just asked her if she-her human form-would be _joining_ him and Stacie on their dumb basketball date.

As far as she remembers, she never agreed to anything this impractical and if she had, she would've drowned herself by now because just picturing herself at a basketball game makes her want to chug bleach.

"With Jesse...remember?"

No Jake, she does not _remember_ because if she did, she wouldn't be this lost in the conversation as she currently is.

His eyes float over to Stacie; still just as confused as ever, still not really knowing what exactly is going on and if this is suppose to be some sort of inside joke, Beca definitely didn't receive the memo.

As she follows Jake's eyes over to Stacie, she gets the briefest glimpse of Stacie motioning erratic slashes to her throat to shut Jake up, but not in time before Beca connects the dots and her jaw hangs slack at the audacity that Stacie would do this.

"Stacieeee," Beca whines, but gets shushed by Stacie's finger over her lips and gets pulled away from Jake by her wrist away and over to a secluded section of the bar where they're, for the most part, hidden. Not allowing her friend to explain what's going on, she does the honors and summarizes it, "you agreed to a double date with one of his friends didn't you? And that double date includes _me_?"

Stacie's already apologizing with her eyes by this point and all Beca can do is roll her head up to the ceiling of the bar and groan out the most unattractive noise that is a mixture between a strangled moan and a dying cow because history is repeating itself, ladies and gents.

Anytime Stacie doesn't want to go out on a date with someone, but there is the slightest possibility she might be into them _if_ she were to go on this date, she always sets up a blind date for Beca in return with a brother, or a close friend, or even a cousin related to whomever it is she may be interested in for Beca to spend the entire night wanting to gouge out her eyeballs with spoons because her date brought out his baby picture collection.

True _fucking_ story.

"Jesse's a nice guy!" Stacie defends while Beca keeps her attention facing the ceiling, because maybe if she prayed hard enough, it'd come crashing down on top of her so she wouldn't have to break it to Jake that she'd rather watch paint dry than go to a stupid game. "We met him once here when he gave you like a twenty dollar tip for making a shot of Patron! _Patron_ , Beca! I can make that shit with my toes _and_ in my sleep!"

This is very true; Beca remembers keenly of the impressive size tip because she spent it on Taco Bell that night and the following morning after to cure a raging hangover.

However, she doesn't understand _why_ Stacie assumed to think that this specific moment allowed her to set Beca up on a date with Mr. Prince Charming and his loads of cash.

"I'm gay, sorry. _Wayyy_ into the vagina," is Beca's second, main excuse not to go when her eyes fall back to Stacie, who has a hopeful grin on her mouth while her eyes literally beg Beca to go.

Her first main excuse is that she just didn't want to go.

"Bitch, we both know you're bisexual when you hooked up with your kind of boyfriend, _kind of fuck buddy_ you met here in the back of his car!" Stacie doesn't miss a beat with this jab she just happened to puncture straight though Beca and all her words she had bubbling up in the back of her throat.

Beca scoffs, offended, mouth gaped wide open and probably catching flies-though this is another thing that is sadly true.

His name was Dylan and he was the other bartender who worked here until he decided on leaving because the workplace made him feel "uncomfortable," but only because Beca told him straight up that she didn't want a relationship with him. Dylan was nice and all, decent eye candy, but was she girlfriend material for him?

Absolutely not.

So, what do you do when you don't want to break the kids heart who happened to fall in love with you the few months of hooking up?

You push them away.

And that's what Beca did, but only to receive a wounded puppy expression on his face the entire shifts they worked together, which was a great example as to why she doesn't get close to people.

 _God_ , it was painful.

"That's your excuse always when I set you up with a guy and sorry to break it to you, babe, but you can't _choose_ when and when not you want to be a lesbian! It's not a fucking quarter-heads you're gay, tails you're straight!"

Having another valid point and not wanting to waste her breath on an argument she is sure not to win, Beca collapses her shoulders with a defeated sigh. "You didn't even ask me first."

"That's because you would've said no," Stacie replies and also relaxes her posture.

"And you _didn't_ think I'd say no once Saturday rolls around and you tell me we are going somewhere normal that isn't a basketball game, but I soon figure out when we are parking in the arena that you _lied_ to me?" Beca flails her hands up like a mad woman for added measures.

Stacie shrugs nonchalantly, "you'd already be in the car at the stadium, so at that point you'd have to go on the date."

"Oh my God," Beca murmurs, closing her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger.

Stacie sees this and decides to pull the last resort trigger as she begins falling to the ground, ready to get on both knees and beg like a dog in front of the few people who are in the bar surrounding their little feud.

Grabbing Stacie by the elbows before she makes an even bigger scene than she already has, "fine!" Beca hisses as she caves under Stacie's non verbal pleas and rolls her eyes at the elated, high pitch squeal of pure joy as soon as the word left her mouth. Not getting off scot free though, "you," she points a finger right between Stacie's eyes to make the taller girl go cross eyed, "owe me a six pack."

Bud light lime; the one way to win over Beca's heart.

"Deal!" Stacie smiles triples in size to the point where it looked uncomfortable and took the chance in close proximity to pull Beca into a tight "thank you" hug.

Swatting away the tree length in height her best friend carries as she gets smothered by Stacie's branches for arms, she stumbles away from the hug with a strangled huff, blowing the misplaced hair blanketing over her face and gives this conversation with Jake a redo, now that she got an understanding from the first party what exactly was going on.

"Hi! Yup, Saturday is a go!" Beca chirps in the most sickly, excited way, all in the hopes of not blowing her cover that she really didn't want to go on this stupid date. The amount of nauseating fakeness in her tone almost made her barf as she confirms her grand appearance for a highly, unanticipated basketball game to an equally excited, but more genuine looking Jake. "I can't _wait_ ," she mock gushes and is glad Jake doesn't know her well enough to tell she is being a giant, sarcastic dick when saying it.

Gulping down the rest of his drink, he slaps the money on the table, rearranges his jacket over his shoulders and blows out the burn from the alcohol. "Dope, I'll see you Saturday then?" he wheezes through a painful face and Beca almost mirrors it because of the teenage slang that literally no one uses anymore, especially if they were a twenty three year old.

_God, she's going to kill Stacie._

He waves a friendly smile over to where Stacie is helping out another customer and exits the bar with his elation dripping from his pores the entire way out, leaving a trail of nastiness for Beca to look at and somehow attempt to get amped about her last minute planned date.

At least basketball games provide beer and with not really knowing Jesse all that well, it will definitely require _lots_ of it if she plans on making it through the night in one, stable piece.

"Becky!" Luke calls out as he walks up to the table, tearing Beca away from her focus on washing some dishes.

It's been _three_ , blissful years with this British, handsome looking poster man and he has _yet_ to figure out that her name is _Beca_ , not Becky-though it's very, _very_ close. That, or he's doing it on purpose because he can secretly see that calling her Becky bugs the shit out of her and it's already too late to correct him on it.

She has a feeling it's the second option... _no one_ calls a person the wrong name for **three** years!

"Sup?" Beca pops the 'p,' tossing the same rag she smacked Stacie with over her shoulder.

"Next Friday I'm booking you for the night," he announces, writing it down on the calendar behind the bar with a big red "X" on the specific day and the name "Mitchell" underneath. Beca scans his face for any teasing; she's played her mixes before for Luke, but never had her own show, especially in front of a live audience.

He then moves over to the computer that controls the LED board out front of the bar and does the exact same to show next week's headlights and she thinks she stops breathing around the time he writes a personal sticky note to himself that is a reminder to create posters to hang around the bar as well.

"Oh! You're serious?" she asks just to make sure that he isn't taunting her like a small little deer, just until she's close enough to shoot her down. By the looks of it; the calendar, the headliners outside and the soon to be made posters, he isn't riling her up for nothing.

"You make some sick beats, mate," he compliments with a half smirk when he sees Beca so flabbergasted about the unexpected, yet exciting news he just dropped on her. "Your mixes are much better than the awful, bloody music Mozart over here is playing."

"Yeah I do," Beca says, not caring if she sounded too cocky. She looks over to the table where Roger, one of the DJs is working, playing something from the early 2000's pop genre that is doing absolutely nothing for the people who do happen to be in sitting at the bar, couches and standing up playing pool. It's not busy compared to the weekend where it's shoulder to shoulder, but it's definitely busy enough to at least put the people in the mood to dance, or even to just have a good time.

Not make them fall asleep in their cocktail or basket of fries.

The locals who run the table on weekends are decent, but their transitions are weak, the beats are enough to get the people to dance, but not good enough to get them to dance all night long until the blisters on their feet are begging them to stop and tote can't hyped a crowd the proper way.

Though she doesn't have the amount of experience they do, she knows a good track from a bad one and she- including Stacie, her mom and apparently Luke- believes her music could do the trick; it would be the perfect remedy for a kick ass night.

"Better get a head start on making a bangin' playlist, Becky, I have high expectations." Luke throws Beca a wink before heading to the back of the bar where his office and the kitchen is, leaving Beca alone to buzz with anticipation for next Friday night.

Hopefully by performing first or a pretty decent size crowd, it will allow her music to get out there and people will start noticing her more. It hasn't been easy trying to get her music out to records labels, or even where to start, but if her music got out to the public's eyes, even just a little bit, which is a lot more than now in comparison, she's praying that it will bring someone in at a higher ranking in to have a listen.

And if she's lucky, her name might even move to an eventual label where she could be signed, and then finally live her dream as a real music producer and just thinking about this fills her body to maximum capacity with anticipation for Friday night.

During her little alone time, girly moment to herself where all she needed was a pillow to scream in, Stacie blows through her lips a long, dragged out whistle when the front doors to the bar open and a literal angel-if Beca were to ever encounter one- walks right through and finds the nearest booth to sit in alone.

"Hot babe, twelve o'clock," she signals Beca's attention towards their newly arrived guest, but it's just a waste of air because Beca is and _has_ already been staring at the girl and is half certain that she hasn't even blinked since mystery girl walked in.

A harmonic, chorus choir plays a gentle melody inside Beca's head, muting out all other sounds in the bar as she is mesmerized by the girl with long, luscious, fiery red hair and a smile that is blinding bright from even afar. The redhead is wearing a not too fancy, not too casual, navy blue cocktail dress as she slides down the charcoal grey coat from her shoulders and drops it next to her on the black, leather booth, giving an eyeful of her hourglass shape to Beca, who's stunned from behind the bar where she is gawking.

 _Is this objectifing_?

Technically, everyone in the bar this current second is no way ashamed that they are, as well, staring at this girl, so she doesn't really feel like that much of a creepier since the whole bar is experiencing the same world stopped revolving, time suddenly froze type of aroma.

Stacie's presence slides up next to her where it's a better view of the redhead, but she's way too fixated on this _masterpiece_ of a woman who just walked into their bar, alone, and gave the venue a whole new meaning a light because she is the exact definition of sunlight.

"Are you seeing this?" Beca mutters her skepticism, not daring to remove her eyes away from the redhead who is now scanning the menu for something to eat with the slight chance in the back of her mind as she could be dreaming this whole thing right now and the redhead can vanish at any moment if removing her eyes from the prize.

"Oh yeah," Stacie drawls, her attention as well not leaving the redhead. "What a fucking hot tamale."

Beca blows out her own mouthful of air, agreeing to this completely. "I wonder what she's doing here at….nine at night all by herself on a Thursday." Glancing down at her watch, Beca checks the time. "She looks more like a Fresh Friday, or Sizzling Saturday night type of girl we'd see."

No way judging a book by its cover, of course, but most of their customers during the weekdays during school time aren't the "party hardy," dance all night long types of college students and more so are the older, yet still like to drink and have fun types of normals they usually get.

Although tonight is in fact a weekday and smack dab in the middle of January, which means school is still going on, this girl in no way shape or form fits the category of their usuals they'd get during this time and actually goes above and beyond the types of girls they'd get on even a Friday or Saturday night.

"Is she lost?" Stacie whispers over to Beca.

"Um, doesn't seem like it since she's looking pretty hard at our menu," Beca answers with a snort, only showing how elated she is about the fact that this redhead would be staying longer in her view for some much needed eye candy if she was planning on making it through the rest of her shift alive.

Another older regular compared to Jake, Tom, who is clearly intoxicated and clearly looking for some innocent young girls to harass walks up to where the redhead is sitting while minding her own business, slugging his heavy body over the opposite side of the booth and throws a creepy, half smirk her way that even makes Beca's skin crawl with the distance keeping them apart.

"Hey there pretty lady," Tom slurs and alerts the redhead, who instead of being weirded out about her surprise guest and taken back by the sudden pet name stretches a beaming smile when looking up from the menu and it's then Beca realizes she's one big, walking, talking ball of pure sunshine. "Whats a girl like you doing all by yourself at a bar?"

"Just treating myself to a little snack and a drink," the redhead replies, smile only doubling in size while saying this and it's the most beautiful sound Beca has ever had the honor of hearing in person, even if it was kind of muffled and she didn't catch it word for word.

Tom chuckles low and dark, ignoring every last thing Chloe just said. "Wanna get out of here?" And that once gleaming smile on the redhead's face disappears quicker than Beca could even blink and okay, she definitely heard what Tom just asked and is not going to sit back and watch him harass this poor girl any longer.

If anything, she is saving him from the embarrassing rejection destined to be thrown his way at any second because no matter how strong and good looking he thinks he is, this girl is _way_ out of his league. _Jesus,_ the girl is out of everybody's league who isn't a jaw dropping model of some sort, with amazing facial structures and killer abs.

Dropping everything in her hands, she ushers behind Stacie to push through the hip high, swinging door connected to the bartop and power walks over to where Tom and the redhead are talking, hoping she isn't too late before this drunken imbecile spills anymore painful nonsense from his mouth and scares this gorgeous specimen away when he orders her a slippery nipple, or blowjob shot that totally crosses the line of being considered a pervert.

"I'm starting quarterback for the Gators and have a truck outside with a backseat that's calling _your_ name, sweetheart." Yep, she got there too late.

And the cry for help written over Chloe's face is screaming bloody murder at Beca to do something and save her from this mess.

Patting Tom's back and grabbing his arms to haul him out the doors, "okay Tommy boy, you've had _way_ too much to drink, which is causing you to talk out of your ass right now and I'm totally sorry I didn't cut you off earlier." Beca snickers when she gets a tight half hug from Tom the inebriated giant, who has no boundaries of physical contact when he recognizes her voice.

Tom isn't the worse of the guys she has gotten to know while working at Blackbird. He is starting quarterback for the Gators, which was true, but he's also a lot smarter than he looks and has a _somewhat_ charming side to him once you get pass his cocky ego. However, once he gets alcohol in his system he transforms from nice Tom to pervy Tom in the mere matter of seconds.

Stacie has the honors of experiencing this side _a lot_ of times in the past.

"Hey you little-" An abrupt hiccup stops him mid sentence and Beca flinches away from under his hold because she honestly thinks he is going to yack all over her. Luckily, he doesn't, and it was a onetime thing because once he got it out from his chest, he continued slurring, "hey you little…. _pipsqueak_!"

Beca dodges away from his hands trying to pinch at her cheek and hears a sweet laugh come from the booth she's so desperately trying to keep this six foot man up against before he plummets her into the ground and when she follows the sound, her breath hitches until she literally thinks her respiratory system legitimately stops working.

"Need any help?" The redhead asks amused at the scene, but also in genuine seriousness and all Beca can do is stand there paralyzed because _holy blue, her fucking eyes! Like, is that even possible? The ocean isn't even that fucking blue, is this girl even human?_

"I uh...umm," Beca stutters and forgets all of her twenty two years of learned English in a snap of the fingers, leaving her alone with broken up sounds and grunts, incoherent at her finest. _Get your shit together, Mitchell._

She shakes herself out of whatever it is keeping her from speaking actual words and learns that looking at the redhead might be the reason she is speaking in tongue because of multiple things, like her cerulean blue eyes and her crest whitening strips teeth and just her whole _freaking_ face that's literally _perfect_ and so _freaking_ unfair.

"I'm good," she finally manages out through a strangled squeak, now using every muscle in her lower half to hold up Tom's dead weight as he slowly fades in and out of consciousness. "He," she then gestures with her head to a lifeless Tom hanging over her like a drunk kola on a tree, "is _not_ good. I'll be right back."

"I'll hold my breath," the redhead giggles; a real life, cartoon sounding giggle that erupts Beca's stomach with a zoo of butterflies to bounce around her ribcage to the point where she think she might be sick, as if she wasn't already stricken by the girl's attractiveness already.

Beca doesn't really know how to respond to this and the redhead's face is too distracting to figure something out. So, she pats Tom on the stomach and limps away before she ended up saying something she'd regret.

She calls out for Luke and Bubba, Blackbird's security, to take out Tom since they both are a lot taller than her and also, a lot stronger to hold up all his dead weight. Getting crushed tonight by a drunk guy isn't really on her wish list, so she is more than relieved to see Luke strutting his way up towards her to sweep in under Tom's armpit, replacing her form with his and carries him outside, as if he had to do this quite frequently.

Which to be honest, he does. Sometimes people just don't know their limits.

 _Welcome to bartending_ , she guesses.

Apparently, one of Tom's sober buddies was busy getting his car that was parked by a nearby building and was planning on swinging by and grabbing Tom from inside the bar to bring him home safe, so waiting for a ride takes no time and before she knows it, she's walking her way back over to the booth where she is expecting to see a gorgeous redhead, but is only greeted by an empty booth.

 _Huh_ , maybe Beca did hallucinate this angel of a girl and was talking to a ghost the entire time.

Damn, that's depressing; now what is going to entertain her for the rest of her shift till midnight?

"Hey bartender!" Though there's nobody to pair with the sweet voice Beca is hearing, it's still present and still somewhere around the bar.

Scanning the perimeter, Beca's eyes land on Stacie behind the bar and joined with her on one of the bar stools is the redhead, waving Beca over with a warm smile and her bleach white set of teeth. Taking a few deep breaths because God knows she'll need it if she's planning on having an actual conversation with this chick, she heads over to the bar and slides through the swinging door, joining Stacie in the back by the alcohol.

"Nice of you to join us, Becs." Stacie flaunts Beca a warm welcoming smile. "Chloe and I were just discussing the best dishes to eat here and I was telling her it has to be the oysters, don't you agree?"

Keeping her nerves at bay, Beca sends Stacie a puzzled look; the bar didn't even carry oysters.

"Why? Because they're aphrodisiacs?" She snorts to Stacie standing at the other side of the bar, shaking her head "no" to Chloe, apparently, (such a perfect name for a perfect girl) and asks what the girl would like to drink. She also switches to entrepreneur mode and lists off Blackbird's most famous cocktails since that's what they're known for, just in case Chloe is looking for one of those to try.

Declining the detailed lists of different concoctions of cocktails, "can I get a whiskey sour?"

Surprised by this, Beca starts plucking each supply necessary for the drink. "You like whiskey sours?"

"Oh totes! The exhilarating mixture of the sour and sweet taste you get, it's _delicious_!" Chloe confirms, smile glowing under the bar's lights and making it impossible to focus on the task at hand when mixing the drink. "Either those or Long Island ice teas."

Beca laughs, grabbing some pre-cut lemons from a plate she put out earlier, as well as snagging the sugar from a cabinet. "Didn't feel like getting fucked up tonight?"

Chloe joins Beca's laughs, shaking her head. "Sadly, not tonight. I own my own small dance studio down in Miami that I have to teach tomorrow."

This sparks Beca's interest when she takes into thought that Miami to Gainesville is four hours away from each other, maybe even more than that to be honest. Also, of course this _God's creation_ is super successful and runs her own dance academy; she should've known better than to think Chloe wasn't a hard working, independent woman.

"Dance studio in Miami, huh? What ages do you teach? And mainly, what are you doing all the way up here?" she inquires, pouring out the lemon juice to mix with the whiskey.

"Yeah! And juniors-mostly early age high schoolers and late middle school girls; they're my club team and we travel a bunch for competitions during the summer. I've been dancing all my life, so I didn't really know what to do with myself without dancing," Chloe informs animated and Beca can already tell Chloe is super passionate about her job, which isn't much of a shock that it makes her ten times more attractive- _if_ that's even possible.

"And for your question as to what I'm doing up here, I'm just stopping by. My roommate loves this place and always wanted to take me here. She just hasn't gotten the chance to do so since she's always busy with school. I went to visit my parents in Tampa, so I figured since I was close enough, why not take a drive up to the bar I've heard so many good things about," Chloe explains through a smile and takes the expertly made whiskey sour from Beca's hands before she starts putting all the items away. "How much do I owe you?"

It's about now at this question when Beca experiences an inner battle between saying Chloe's drink is on the house, because she really wanted to buy the girl a drink anyways, but also the other reason is telling her _not_ to say this because would buying a stranger a drink be considered flirting?

And rule number one; Beca Mitchell doesn’t flirt.

"You're good," Beca waves off the handed twenty, going with _option A_ and mentally _praying_ that it doesn't scare Chloe away if it does consider as flirting.

One thing Beca has already done-even though she'd jump at the chance if it was there for her to grab- was get it through to her head that hooking up with this girl is a _firm_ negative and that she shouldn't even try, to be honest.

First of all, of course Beca thinks Chloe is a total babe and _thee_ hottest girl she has ever seen and that's the straight up, "cross my heart" truth. But 1. Chloe would never go for a girl like her; a young bartender who is barely making a living on selling perfectly executed alcohol drinks to a bunch of drunk people while she gets her music deal sorted out, and 2. Chloe, as gorgeous as she is-is probably not even in the slightest bits _gay_.

Maybe the occasional experimental peck every now and then with a few close friends during college (if she goes or went to college) but that's about it.

It wouldn't even surprise Beca if Chloe had an equally attractive, hot bod boyfriend back at home in Miami, just waiting for her clad in an apron, with a plate of freshly baked cookies balancing on his hand with a freshly shaved beard and giant muscles and reading testosterone.

You hate yourself for assuming, but it's hard not to when looking at the girl.

"You sure?"

"Of course, it's on the house."

"Can I at least buy _you_ a drink?" Chloe challenges with a raised brow, smile morphing into more of a smirk that does the same amount of damage as her normal smile to Beca and honestly, maybe even a little bit more. "What's your favorite drink?"

"Actually, it's a whiskey sour, as well, which is why I was so surprised that you ordered one," Beca snickers at the similarity. "They aren't that popular around here."

Chloe nods her head listening, then slides the twenty dollar bill across the table over to Beca. "Then get me another one those." And Chloe hits Beca with an unexpected wink that makes her feel like she's experiencing early symptoms of cardiac arrest. "What kind of beer do you like? Blue moon and two orange slices?"

Beca is actually offended at this assumption from Chloe and she can't help but show it through her scoff that sneaks out under her breath. "You know, I was going to pay for your drink, but now I don't think I'm going to."

Chloe howls a fully hearted laugh and for the briefest second, all other background noises mute out, making it seem like Beca is caught inside a fishbowl as she watches the muscles in Chloe's neck flex and bob up and down while the beautiful noise erupts out from her.

Chloe sobers, assuring Beca that she is just kidding and _maybe_ will try shooting out a better guess other than Blue _fucking_ Moon; a total bitch beer. "I'm thinking you're more of a bud light type of girl."

Now that's more like it.

"You'd be correct," Beca confirms with a small half smile, placing her hands firmly on the table in front of Chloe, feeling more and more comfortable around the girl by the second

"Get me two of those, as well." Deciding that a few drinks wouldn't hurt, plus the crowd for tonight doesn't seem to be overwhelming the table with drink orders, Beca nods her head, whipping out three individual glasses; two for the beers and the other for the whiskey sour.

After going through the process of creating the whiskey sour and using the beer gun to fill up both medium size glasses with minimal foam (she's an expert) Beca hands the other beer over to Chloe who has already put a pretty big dent into her whiskey sour and immediately takes the offered beer.

She would be lying if she said she isn't nervous about talking to the hottest girl she has ever been in an arm's reach radius of because in all honesty, her brain is pretty much going haywire to the point of frying itself just trying to think of words that would spark a friendly convo in the hopes of them not coming out too idiotic. Last thing she needs to do is embarrass herself in front of a pretty girl with an _immaculate_ set of eyes and teeth and an even better giggle.

But in all seriousness, who is this girl's dentist?

 _Jesus Christ_ himself?

Raising up the filled topped beer to eye level, Chloe does the same and Beca leans it in to clink glasses.

Here goes a night of lots of stuttering and jumbled up words and hoping for at least some liquid courage to help her out.

* * *

 

 _Perfect_.

Chloe Beale is fucking _perfect_.

Beca has finally came to this conclusion after about a couple of hours talking to this girl about easy flowing conversations about Chloe's dance academy and Beca's past life in Maine with Stacie and although no one is considered perfect in life, or really even comes close to it, Chloe is the _exact_ definition of the word and no one can tell her otherwise.

The conversations are normal; Chloe talks and seems like an ordinary, humble, made of entirely sunshine type of girl- though she's an anomaly from a different universe, Beca can admit that. It's actually very intimidating on a bunch of different levels, almost to the point where Beca has to bite her tongue to the point of breaking skin not to ask why a hot shot babe like Chloe is doing talking to a loser bartender at an average looking bar and is _actually_ enjoying herself to stay and chat.

Just thinking about it doesn't seem possible and trust her, she has pinched herself many times throughout the couple hours unnoticeably under the table top, thinking that maybe she's dreaming this whole scenario, but all she gets when doing this is two nail indentations and a few red marks to glow over her skin.

But it's interesting getting to know someone else around town, even if Chloe happens to live in Miami. She has never been really good at making friends; Stacie doesn't count because she's just an outlier because they, surprisingly, had a lot of shit in common and Stacie kinda weaseled her way into Beca's personal bubble regardless if she was wanted or not.

As for Chloe, she learns, they have a lot more in common than she could've ever expected. Whether it is the drink choices, top played songs on their iPhone's music library, or what's their favorite junk food to snack on late at night, her and Chloe are practically soulmates.

Or in the words of the trend today on Tinder, they're basically a perfect match.

But Beca would never admit that out loud because she can barely even convince herself that her and Chloe enjoy a lot of the same things that it's almost scary.

What she can convince herself, though, and has been the entire night of talking is that Chloe is like a matchless, out-of-this-world, robot designed from her own personal laboratory and is in all ways shapes and forms _completely_ out of her league.

Beca's not one to admit on a cocky level that getting a girl's number she has some attraction towards is a hard task to achieve; she's done it lots of times working late night shifts at the bar and something about making a really good sex on the beach really turns the ladies on.

But this whole scenario, Chloe and the slimmest chance of scoring the girl's number is non existent and was never there to begin with.

And she is so positive of this that she tries insanely hard not to dwell on the painful heartache every time Chloe lights up with one of those skin chilling giggles that raises the hair on the back of her neck that she'll _never_ win a shot with this gorgeous, **gorgeous** human being.

What she does focus on is that she's incredibly lucky to even be having a long lasting conversation with Chloe when it's clear that the rest of the bar and then some would _kill_ to be in her position.

Which is enough gloating she needs for the time being.

Progressively throughout the night and a few more topped off beers to ease the conversations along, Blackbird became more and more busier with regulars just getting off of work, or the late night drinkers that could use the fix of a big, greasy burger, along with their handle of Coors light. The booths start to fill up and the dance floor proceeds to get busier by the second, which is always a fun time to witness drunk people trying to dance while they try not to stumble over.

 _Ha, Classic_.

Once finished helping out a new customer that stumbled up to the bar and giving him a glass of water, along with a _virgin_ pina colada when he asked for a alcoholic one because she could already see how intoxicated the man was the moment he came up to the bar and she doesn't need to be cleaning up puke when he throws it all up later on, Beca heads back over to Chloe where an intense game of Jenga is happening since the redhead found the bar's unusual game collection and demanded to play just so she could rub it in Beca's face when she wins.

Pretty and confident; two intriguing qualities,  _go figure_.

"Your turn, Mitchell," Chloe claps excitedly when seeing Beca's arrival. Only two beers and a whiskey sour down the hatch, but already the girl is on a another type of level that increases her friendlier behavior and giggles even higher.

Beca eyes the tube of blocks suspiciously; the tower is on its last limb, so strategizing her next move is a must. Plucking the wrong block could collapse the whole thing down, granting Chloe all the teasing in the books and Beca is really drowned in her competitive nature, no thanks to her buzzing off the few drinks consumed, so losing isn't a valid option right now.

Settling on what looks like a sturdy block in the bottom left corner of the tower, she's crouched over and too fixated on the block she's slowly pulling out to catch Stacie marching up behind her before placing a firm smack on her butt that jolts her straight up at the stinging contact, causing her once steady hand to yank the block out with too much force and sends the tower tumbling down across the table.

"Mother fucking shit!" Beca curses at the scattered blocks along the table, all caused by her last move and shoots a nasty scowl at a laughing Stacie and Chloe who are exchanging a triumphing high five.

Whatever, she hates board games anyway and Jenga is the _worst._

"Hi, I'm stealing Beca away for a second." Stacie ignores the weaponizing look Beca is burning into the side of her head and hooks her hand around Beca's bicep to politely pull her away from Chloe and their now finished game.

Being dragged over to the secluded part of the bar that they were already at earlier tonight, Beca puts her foot down the second they are far enough away from Chloe and barks a harsh, "bitch, you made me lose!" under her breath.

"Chloe's _super_ into you." Bluntly, Stacie comes out saying this, once again ignoring everything that Beca has to say or offer, especially the blank, emotionless expression she receives once this assumption is out of her mouth.

Beca's first initial reaction once hearing this ridiculously insane nonsense is to laugh; a loud, hysterical laugh that causes several people in the bar to stare at her, questioning if she is alright, or if they should dial 911 while witnessing the early diagnosis of insanity.

"You're funny," she manages to wheeze out after her laughing is calmed, using her thumb to vacuum up the single teardrop on her cheek she produced from laughing so hard.

Stacie's a lot of different things and has a ton of great qualities, but Beca never knew her best friend had the natural gift of being a damn comedian.

Talk about a hidden talent.

Stacie smacks Beca harsh in the shoulder. "I'm serious!" she hisses as a whisper when Beca rubs her newly injured spot on her arm. "Chloe has been totally giving you _fuck me eyes_ the entire night."

"Definitely _not_ , Einstein." Beca almost wants to laugh again at Stacie's delusional visions she's mustering up inside her head.

How would Stacie even know anyways? She was too busy playing pool with a local old guy the whole night and nowhere near her and Chloe to even claim this.

"Chloe is literally **perfect** -look that word up in the dictionary and her name would be right there next to it! Big and bold and….probably written in fancy cursive letters and the nicest type of ink there is that's been written with a feathered pen or something," she trails off winded, getting farther ahead of herself than originally intended.

"I know it's hard to process all this and trust me, I didn't believe it either when a hot babe like Chloe would ever be interested in you, a grumpy porcupine who wears too much eyeliner."

Even though Beca agrees with this statement and thinks it's a very valid point, it still stings hearing it out loud from a different person's mouth. She's the only one who could be her biggest critic.

Stacie's grabs Beca by the shoulders and turns her in the general direction to where Chloe is sitting patiently, sipping on her beer. "There's a lot of explanations towards my theory about Chloe, for example, she bought you a drink- _two,_ to be exact."

"She was just giving her thanks for getting Tom off her back earlier," Beca mumbles, eyes trained over Chloe's form and flinches when Stacie smacks her in the side of the head for interrupting.

"Second example, do you know how many guys she turned down tonight just to stay and talk to you? She even turned down muscle head Mike, who's notorious for reeling in the opposite sex like some fucked up spell that makes him and his sausage arms irresistible, or some shit."

Okay, though this is true, (Beca can admit it felt pretty damn good to watch the look of shock wash over his face at being turned down by Chloe) Beca still can't wrap her head around the slightest possibility of Chloe freaking Beale, insanely good looking dance teacher would ever be interested in her.

"I can spot sexual tension from miles away and you know I'm damn right." Beca shrugs, unable to argue with this one against Ms. Sex Expert. "But I'm serious, shorty, those legs are dying to be pressed against these cheeks." Stacie gives a playful smack to either side of Beca's face for added measures.

Beca cringes at the crass description; Stacie never fails turning any conversation into a sexual one.

Twisting herself away from Chloe; the girl who's practically sitting under a spotlight, "Chloe's not gay, Stacie." Beca declares, crossing her arms above her chest. "Even if she was, which she most definitely _isn't_ , I'm not her type. Stacie, she's a _hard_ ten! I'm a hard _six_ , seven on a good day if I'm lucky!"

"Shut up!" Stacie sends another smack to Beca's head and she really didn't sign up for all this physical abuse tonight. Thankfully, her light buzz from all the drinks takes the pain off each hit, but definitely blurs up her vision more than she would like. "You're a hotty, Becs. Seriously, if I didn't feel like I would be participating in incest, I would've banged you by now."

This earns a laugh from Beca, even when she tried her hardest to keep it in, but Stacie's bluntness in her choice of words has forsure earned itself a designated spot on her funny bone. Settling her laughs down, Beca takes another good look at Chloe to prove her point and averts her eyes back to Stacie, the answer right in front of her.

"She's out of my league," Beca mumbles again, the disappointment finally hitting her full blast.

"No, she's most definitely in your league and is no way _not_ playing for the majors." Beca scrunches her face, not fully understanding this analogy. Maybe she's a lot more drunk than she thought. "Come on, little one." Stacie pulls Beca by the arm again to rejoin Chloe at the bar, giving a friendly pat to her butt before sending her off on her way.

Upon making it there, Chloe senses them walking up and radiates the biggest smile in the history of smiles on her face, making Beca physically weak in the knees the closer she gets to it.

 _Good_ _lord_ is this girl a superhero or something with freakish superpowers?

Chloe squints her eyes at Beca, cautiously gulping down the rest of her beer. "So, when are you going to jump up on this table, light it with fire and pour buckets of water on yourself for the highest bid here?" Chloe teases with a crooked smile and a wink that Beca wasn't prepared for. "I think I have a couple bucks to spare."

Stacie's whole body lights up like the moon in a cloudless sky at night time, shooting and throwing her hands up in every direction with exasperation, claiming that everybody would love to see the bar as a real life Coyote Ugly movie, destined to change Luke's mind about it that she's not the only one who agrees.

Beca rolls her eyes with a small chuckle as she watches her best friend march over to Luke's office to give him the grand spiel of her big idea that has just been brought back to life, no thanks to Chloe, who is sitting like a smug, gorgeous culprit and obviously amused by the fire she just caused.

"For your information, I will not, nor _ever_ get up and dance on this table." Chloe clicks her tongue, shaking her head with disappointment. "My ass belongs back here, making killer drinks and back there, playing kick ass mixes." She points over to the empty DJ booth that has cued up a pre-made playlist on the juke box next to it for background music, now that Roger has called it a night.

Following the finger over her shoulder, "you make music?" Chloe switches from her teasing persona to a more interested and serious one, intrigued by the thought of Beca being a DJ with the glint in her eyes that has progressively created a glassy layer over them.

Before Beca can respond to this, Stacie steals the answer right from her mouth as she makes another customer his drink. "Fuck yeah she does, Gingee."

Beca takes the mic back into her own hands, "I want to become a music producer, but for now I make mashups-"

" _Amazing_ mash ups," Stacie corrects and it can be seen that Chloe is truly impressed by their widen in her eyes.

"Thanks, Stace," Beca snickers, muttering to Stacie to lock it up, though she appreciates the support and compliments. One thing that Stacie never gets tired of is inflating Beca's ego to maximum size; it's in her nature to swell Beca's confidence like a balloon. "But yeah, that's _me_." She chuckles nervously while back pedaling up to the guy downing his third double shot of crown, cutting him off before Luke has to carry out yet another passed out fool.

"Very impressive," Chloe says genuinely. "Maybe sometime you can...show me these _so-called_ amazing mash ups." Shrugging nonchalantly, she tugs her coat over her shoulders and pulls out all hair that got caught underneath while Beca tries to push away that bummed out feeling she has in her stomach, not really wanting Chloe to leave just yet.

Beca chances a look over to Stacie and what she is rewarded with is a nod that says a thousand words gesturing towards Chloe standing up from the bar stool, pushing Stacie's assumption made earlier about Chloe having the hots for Beca, which is still something that's impossible to believe.

"I hate to say this, but my taxi is out front and I should head to my hotel so I can wake up early enough to make it home to Billie in time before my scheduled dance session."

At the random name that is clearly made for a male, Beca shoots another glance over to Stacie; one that says " _I told you so_ " and turns back to face Chloe with a small frown. "Well hopefully you'll take the trip back up here for some more drinks. We work literally all the time because daddy long legs over here brings in the most customers and tips," she jokes.

"Though Stacie is very attractive indeed-" Chloe gets cut off by Stacie yelling an appreciative "thank you" from across the bar. Laughing at the sudden outburst and Stacie's insanely great hearing, she continues, "I think people come here for the bad ass bartender who makes amazing mash ups and _killer_ whiskey sours. Gotta say from close up experience, she's pretty easy on the eyes," she finishes with that damn wink again; this time coming out with a lot more force and a distinct route into the flirtation category.

Stacie hears this clear as a bell; a serial killer smile on her face while Beca stands like a paralyzed zombie. Chloe did not just flirt with her. Nope. Not possible. What Chloe said could've literally meant _anything_ and could've been directed towards anyone in this bar.

Yep, no flirting going on here.

Totally platonic.

"I do have a song request before I leave though," Chloe speaks up, already making her way over to the juke box before placing some cash on the table top and pulls out some coins from her purse. Stacie sees the opening while Chloe fiddles around with the endless library of songs to slide up next to Beca, her arm experiencing a full on spazz freak out as it nudges Beca in the ribs over and over again uncontrollably.

Blocking Stacie's berserk jabbing elbow and grabbing a hold of the flying limb before she ends up with a fractured rib, " _stop_. That could've meant literally anything...like, I'm easy on the eyes meaning I'm not _that_ bad looking." Beca doesn't really know how to feel about this excuse because it doesn't make her feel _bad -_ so to say- about her appearance, but it sure as Hell doesn't make her feel good about it either.

"You seriously can't be this dense, Beca. Chloe totally wants to find out what other talents your fingers can do other than making music." Stacie lifts up a hand and wiggles her fingers in the most uncomfortable and X-rated way, only adding to her sexual innuendo. "And by music I totally mean the mixture of throaty moans and screams you two will make when you guys totally _fucccckkk_."

Making it completely possible to feel violated by a single verbal sentence, "Oh my _God_!" Beca screeches, flailing around her hands to hit Stacie all over her body in the effort of shutting up her friend's obnoxious cackles. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Somewhere during Beca's and Stacie's physical banter, a specific and keenly familiar song blared through the bar's jukebox, all because of an innocent looking redhead staring over at the bartenders with almost devilish smirk, placing her wallet back into her purse.

"I'll see you around, Mitchell," Chloe chirps, batting her big, blue eyes at Beca as she curls up her fingers to wave before strutting her way out of the bar, leaving the venue to drown in the heavy, auto tuned voice of T-Pain while the song "Bartender" fills the aroma.

"Still think she isn't into you?" Stacie whispers in close to Beca's ear, eyes still focused on the door where the redhead just walked through. "Check it." Stacie crawls her fingers across the table to the stack of cash Chloe left like a spider, rummaging through the greatly generous tip she gave Beca, which is only a small detail to prove Stacie's theory right compared to the white receipt also placed in the stack that Stacie plucks out before unfolding it and written in a hot pink pen is a ten digit number that only belongs to the redhead herself.

Unwrinkling the receipt and fluffing it a few times in front of Beca's stone cold face, Stacie bites the tip of her tongue smugly, dropping the number in Beca's frozen hand. "I stand my case."

Beca doesn't really know how to respond, nor can juggle up the right words to explain how she feels at the moment, so she just stands there, dumbfounded and completely confused as she tries to put all the pieces together as to what in the _literal_ fuck just happened.

Despite the occasional dropped hints of flirting that occurred throughout the night involving her and Chloe and the close proximity to her face that Chloe always seemed to gravitate closer to, and the way Chloe didn't for once break eye contact now that she is thinking about it...but even after all of this once it has completed synchronization through her head, she still firmly believes that Chloe would never be into her.

Though she was left a phone number with a small note that read, "text me sometime" with a big pink heart next to it that only confuses her even more.

But she guesses it doesn't even matter since the redhead lives in Miami and they'll probably never even see each other again, even with the redhead's number.

Oh well.

At least it saves her the pain and torture she would endure if she were to see Chloe again, knowing a treasure like Chloe would never go for a troll like her.

Guess it saves her the heartbreak, so that's a plus.

* * *

Beca fucking hates basketball.

Plain and simple.

Probably even more than Jesse talking off her ear about best scored, prehistoric movies and claiming that she just committed the biggest sin in the history of sins when she informs him that she'd rather get water boarded than to sit through a full movie. He then chides her for the entire second quarter before halftime that she needs a movie education and he's going to be the one to give it to her.

Which, like, definitely _no_ , dude.

To be honest, the night started off pretty fun and there was even the briefest moment when Beca believed that tonight might actually bring some good out of this double date.

They got dressed; Beca chose black skinny jeans that were ripped at the knee and her nicest flannel because, _duh_ , this was a "date." Stacie went for jeans, as well, but her shirt was a lot nicer and fit the whole color code for tonight's game and exposed a lot more cleavage than Beca would ever feel comfortable with.

Stacie curled Beca's hair while Beca watched Stacie do all the straightening on her own because anything cosmetic wise is just a no for her. Beca may be able to make herself look good on the daily, but trying to do Stacie's hair, a girl who has insanely high standards on her appearance, is borderline impossible.

Then they took the four hours to prepare themselves for the whirlwind of possibilities that tonight might bring as they drove to the American Airlines Center where the game was taking place. After looking up bad date bailouts on Google that won't make seem like they're a bunch of jerks if they really aren't enjoying themselves and would prefer to leave without breaking it to the boys, they met with Jake and Jesse in the busy parking lot and after exchanging the normal awkward greetings, they decided to head inside.

The seats-Beca can admit- are the only nice thing about watching the game because they're super close up to the court and are around all the snobby, rich people who are just as squeamish as she is when it comes to physical contact, so there's a ton of room to breathe and smells less like popcorn and vomit. Plus, there's a small chance of winning a free shirt that the cheerleaders shoot out from guns, so that's nice because she definitely needed more sleeping shirts.

Jake seemed to be _barf central nervous_ the moment he saw Stacie and gave her a hug in the parking lot. Luckily for Beca, Jesse got one glance as he moved in to do the same that was a silent threat reading, "touch me and I'll cut your balls off" and he backed away immediately, settling for a formal handshake, which was something she could work with.

Here's how the beginning part of the game went; Beca and Stacie chugged a beer and shared a jumbo popcorn while Beca dropped question after question about what the Hell was going on-on the court because unlike her, Stacie actually kind of likes watching basketball and knows a pretty good grasp of how the game actually works.

Jake almost experienced a heart attack when he held Stacie's hand half way through the first quarter and Stacie allowed it to happen because she felt sympathetic towards how nervous he was, even though she sees him more as a friend than a boyfriend; Beca knows this because they had a four hour drive and talked about girly things like this.

Jesse; a poor, dense soul, but has a heart of gold and tiny puppies just couldn't put two and two together and realize that Beca, similar to Stacie, isn't interested in dating him, especially after his movie 101 lesson on how she's such a crazy person for not liking movies and wouldn't From the life of him drop the conversation.

By that point, he ruined his nonexistent shot at dating her, maybe she would have let him put an arm behind her while they watched the game, but sure as Hell not anymore.

The buzzer goes off, ending the second quarter before halftime and Jake and Jesse announce that they're going to the bathroom and to get some beers for the group, which _thank God_. Stacie and Beca wave them off as they listen to the stadium's speakers announcing that the Miami Heat's dancers will be performing during halftime and it's a performance destined to burn the place down, so hurry up getting your popcorn because you don't want to miss it!

Well, Beca will be the judge of that.

"Jesse's kind of a goof," Stacie comments all of a sudden; the people around them scrambling around to get everything that they need before the game picks back up because apparently the Miami Heat and Orlando's Magic are like the biggest rivals in the NBA and missing any bit of the close scoring game is a real life nightmare, which explains the intense division of red and blue colors separating the full house audience. "He's good looking for sure-has a cute little half smile that's adorable, but I don't see it with you two."

Isn't that the truth that Jesse can't seem to get through his delusional head. Yes, the boy is probably the most chivalrous guy she's been on a date with and even made her genuinely laugh a few times at his cheesy jokes and dopey smile to go along with it, but anything more than friends is a hard pass.

"Besides, I think you and a certain ginger have a lot more chemistry than Star Wars nerd over here," Stacie adds, throwing Beca a playful wink.

 _Chloe_.

That's a name and face Beca has been thinking about a lot lately-well, at least these past few days since she had the honor of meeting and having such a blissful conversation with the beautiful creation herself. They have exchanged a couple texts since that night Beca was secretly left Chloe's number; she casually dropped the ice breaker message that Chloe forgot a tip and she needs to come back to Gainesville immediately, just to tease and once sent, Chloe hit Beca with a "don't eat yellow snow" and it all escalated from there into a friendship between them.

Beca doesn't even know why she couldn't shake Chloe off her mind after hanging out with her for one night, though she can admit doing so didn't seem like something she really wanted to do, or if it was even possible to forget about those big blue eyes and flaming red mane of hair.

Another thing she couldn't forget was that Chloe would never go for a girl like her, end of story. And bringing it up two days later doesn't change her thoughts about it.

Regardless if Chloe now has her number and has been exchanging texts that bumps them above strangers who just met at the bar.

Beca shrugs it off, not wanting to waste her breath on the same information she has been telling Stacie the moment they left the bar Thursday night when the girl wouldn't shut up about Chloe "having the hots" for her and continued bringing it up the rest of the night until Beca locked Stacie out of her room.

Even if she was going to respond to Stacie's unrealistic beliefs, she misses her chance because the lights dim around the entire arena and set up in the middle of the floor is the Miami Heat's dancers crouched in their ready positions while a static silence floods the stadium.

"Damn!" Stacie exclaims once a piercing siren, it sounds like, blares through the overhead speakers and Beyonce's "Partition" began to play. "Let's see who's the hottest and also the most _flexible_!"

Really, this is an impossible question to answer because as Beca is scanning all the dancers on the court who are wearing the shortest and tightest white shorts above a pair of knee high, black and white converse, along with an even tighter black, crop top tank that reads "Heat" across their chests to scout out the hottest one, she finds that literally _all_ twenty two of them are extremely attractive in an unfair, mesmerizing type of way.

And that's not just because they're dancing to the Queen B in the most sexual, provactive way possible that is hypnotizing her into a deep trance of admiration the longer she stares. It's so much more. Plus, their flexibility goes above and beyond her expectations to the point that how they bend their body is literally jaw dropping.

 _God_ , being hot is an understatement for all these dancers.

Maybe basketball isn't too bad after all.

"What did we miss?" Jake and Jesse appear out of nowhere holding a tray of beers and breaks away both Stacie's and Beca's attention away from the dancers; the beer is the only thing making up for them interrupting such a glorious moment going on down on the court.

At the sight of the dancers whipping their hair around in the sexiest way possible before dropping into a perfectly executed team splits, Jake cheers a relieved, "oh sick! We didn't miss the Heat's dancers like you were on me about while waiting in line for beers!" and elbows Jesse before sitting down at the edge of his seat.

"Becs and I were just trying to decide the hottest one on the team," Stacie informs while snatching two beers off the tray Jake is carrying and handing one of the plastic cups over to Beca.

"Hottest?" Jesse quirks a brow over his beer as he takes a drink. "You mean _prettiest_?" If Beca didn't already want to smack the daylights out of Jesse when he chose to throw his arm up around the back of the chair she is sitting on and break all social norms of personal space, she definitely wants to smack him now as she can taste the harshness of her next set of words bubbling at the back of her throat.

Stacie takes the rope on this one after gulping down a pretty hefty amount of beer and hissing at the coldness of the liquid as it slides down her throat. "Nope. Definitely meant _hottest_ , like the hottest girl on the team that we'd totally want to have sex with."

Beca shrugs when Jesse shoots her a deer caught in headlights glance; she would've said her words a little differently that she swung for both teams, but it's Stacie who said this and she expected nothing less.

What a way to break the news that's for sure.

"Oh?" Jesse is still having a hard time reading between the lines and dawn with Jake. It takes a little longer than she originally thought, but the moment his jaw hangs slack and he swipes his arm off the back of her chair in a motion so fast, she thinks he might've dislocated his shoulder, she then knows he finally understood what Stacie meant. " _Oh_!" he echos, eyes the size of saucers. "I-I…I didn't… like um...that's cool though!"

Beca rolls her eyes and can't keep it in her not to laugh at this poor sight in front of her. Slapping a friendly pat over his hand that sits on his thigh, she offers a smile, "don't worry about it." And lifts her hand out for a shake. "Friends?"

Looking at the offered hand, Jesse wipes his own on top of his jeans and takes the outstretched hand with a firm grip. "Friends."

Stacie shushes both of them as she is entirely focused on the court where the dancers are still going at it, still looking just as sexy as the second they came out, moving their bodies in the most abstract fashion. She does, however, reach for Jake's hand again, taking one for the team with lightening the tension off of the boys at the whole " _bisexual bomb."_

"So, which one did you two decided on?" Jesse, who doesn't seem too upset about losing a shot with Beca, casually brings up.

Scanning the floor all over again, she settles on one girl in particular. "The redhead is pretty hot," Beca points down towards the general area where the team is at and directly at one of the only dancers with bright red hair.

Hands down, the girl is the best dancer on the team and how she moves her body should be considered illegal and a straight up _crime_. Plus, even with the distance separating them she can spot a smile that lights up the whole place and everything about this dancer seems to have a heavy effect on Beca, which is extremely weird and she doesn't fully understand why.

" _Of course_ you'd pick the redhead." Stacie snorts, following Beca's line of sight over towards the redhead, but admits that the girl has it going on it all the right places. "Think she's hotter than Chloe? Hair is just as red and body is just as bangin'."

Beca thinks hard about her response. Chloe is the prime definition of the complete package. She has an amazing personality; she's funny and cute, but can switch in a blink of an eye into the spiciest hot tamale in the store, so that's a lot to compete with. Chloe also has a very, _very_ nice image, physical wise, and has a giggle and smile that could end wars and cure cancer.

And don't even get Beca started about her fucking _abnormally_ blue eyes because that's a whole other story she just doesn't want to get into, just because she'd have a novel to talk about, filled with tons of reasons as to why she loves it so much.

But this girl comes pretty damn close, if not equal to Chloe's high level of attractiveness.

Who knew that would even be possible?

"Did you say Chloe?" Jake asks Stacie, taken back by the name and she hums her answer in response. "If the Chloe you're talking about has red hair and blue eyes to die for than that's your girl out there shaking it."

At Jake's statement when labeling this phenomenal dancer as Chloe, the girl she spent hours at a bar talking to and even played a game of jenga with is in fact, one of the Miami Heat's dancers, Beca's initial reaction is to freeze, not fully believing him because that'd just be the _Goddamn_ cherry on top to Chloe's entire existence.

But as Beca zooms onto the court as best as she can when the team finishes up their routine; not leaving dry seat in the stadium (if you know what she means) all the wind gets sucked straight out of her lungs when it feels like she just got hit by a sack of bricks to the stomach when locking eyes with those intoxicating icy blues down on court.

Body hitting a new stage of paralysis as the crowd around her goes ballistic over the performance and she focuses on the red hair bowing down and waving out to the fans circled around her before jogging off the court with her team.

"Oh my God!" Beca exclaims, coming to a conclusion that Chloe is **indeed** a Miami Heat dancer and only then starts to panic when she notices Chloe squeezing her way through the people around the sidelines and heads up the stairs that lead directly to the section Beca's sitting in.

Stacie hisses at the sudden, erratic slaps Beca gives to her forearm, reddening the area more and more each smack, but she could care less for Stacie's demands to stop because there just so happens to be a _way_ _bigger_ problem beginning with the fact that Chloe is, like, _semi_ famous, and is walking her famous presence up the stadium's stairs and is heading straight for Beca with that giant smile plastered on her face the whole way up, elated to see a familiar face in the crowd.

"Holy shit, Stacie, it's Chloe! Chloe's a fucking dancer for a fucking NBA team!" Beca slugs down in her seat, maybe far enough that Chloe won't see her anymore and really wishing she had on a pair of sunglasses and a hoodie to throw the hood up, taking camouflage to a whole new stage.

"Beca, chill!" Stacie is able to catch Beca's hand before the stinging from the slaps burns right through her skin. "What does Chloe being a dancer have to do with anything? You should be bouncing off the walls that a dancer _that_ hot totally wants to bang you."

You see, that's the main problem here. Originally when all Beca knew about Chloe was that she teaches a bunch of teenage girls how to dance and was perfect in every category on the charts that she would _never_ have a chance with Chloe-that was something she told herself the first sight of the redhead, though it stung like a bitch.

But now, with the dancing and the NBA and the _hot_ dancing and the _hot_ dancing for the NBA players, it's just an overload of realization that if Beca didn't have a shot with Chloe before, she _most_ _definitely_ doesn't have a shot with her now.

No way would a hot shot dancer even associate themselves with a dirty bartender like she is; the thought of it happening is just as unsettling as it is unrealistic.

"What's happening?" Jesse and Jake share a confused glance at the first row ticket to Beca's freakout show, unable to understand why she'd be freaking out in the bad way that a Miami Heat dancer is seconds away from being at an arm's reach of them and not bouncing off the edge of her seat with buzzing enthusiasm.

Disregarding Jesse's question due to her brain being preoccupied with brainstorming a plan to duck away from Chloe's sight and exit the arena without being noticed ASAP, she doesn't have much time to think about possible escape routes because Chloe is right there in front of her before she has the chance to, standing in those tiny white shorts and black crop top, giving her a perfect view of _photoshopped_ stomach muscles and quadriceps that stuns her like a deer who just got shot with dart straight to the butt cheek.

"Beca! What are you doing here and not making yummy drinks for the overage?!" Chloe exclaims winded from the performance, her excitement when seeing the bartender at the game evident in her pitch and face splitting smile. She then catches the taller brunette connected to Beca's side and her smile splits even larger. "Hey Stacie! What is this a little Blackbird reunion?"

"It must be! _Wow_ , what are the odds!" Stacie gushes, highly amused at the inner panic shown in Beca's features since her friend's eyes haven't left Chloe's frame since the moment she got there.

Even with the non existent space between rows, Chloe weasels her way across Jake's sitting form at the aisle seat and moves in to give Stacie a warm hug, then reaches her arms out for Beca's turn, someone who is still experiencing insane levels of paralysis to even blink, so she just sits there, staring at Chloe in all her exposed glory, holding her arms out with a triple sized smile and waits for it to click that she's not leaving until she gets a hug from Beca.

"Come on, Becs, I don't bite," Chloe taunts with the dropped nickname; a nickname that lots of people have called Beca before in the past, but only this time coming from Chloe's mouth has the effects of creating a hurricane of emotions to wash over Beca's body.

Figuring she'd make an even bigger scene than one she's already created if she weren't to hug Chloe back, she slowly stands up from her seat; her legs still have zero feeling in them so it's kind of sloppy on the way up and dips her chin over Chloe's shoulder when they're at the same level, desperately trying to find a good place to wrap her arms because it's then she realizes that Chloe is half naked and everywhere she does end up putting her hand touches toned, smooth skin and causes her to violently jerk her hands back at the warm contact.

The hug Beca gets from Chloe lasts a lot longer than the hug Stacie previously received, which Beca can already sense the dirty smirk radiating off her best friend's face without even looking. She settles with placing her hands on the upper part of Chloe's crop top, savoring the heavenly scent of this girl's perfume and _wow_ , _is that strawberry shampoo?_

"It's so nice to see you again!" Chloe chirps, reeling Beca out of her maybe creepy adoration over the redhead, pulling away from the hug, but keeping her hands locked securely over Beca's wrists.

For the most part-except the lack of clothing covering skin that Beca wasn't able to gape at in the blue cocktail dress worn Thursday night- Chloe looks the same; still as jaw dropping as the first time Beca met her at the bar. She has her hair straightened instead of those bouncing curls and there's a lot more dark eye makeup enclosing those icy orbs.

Admittedly, Chloe dressed right now is making it hard to focus on anything else other than her milky tan skin and incredible pair of biceps that Beca would not mind one bit being trapped in a headlock.

"You're welcome," is all Beca mutters before she can even process how fucking _idiotic_ it would've made her sound because that is definitely not the response to give to someone when they tell you how excited and nice it is to see you.

Like seriously? A "you too," or something along those lines would've sufficed.

Not "you're welcome," as if she's giving off her presence like some type of charity.

_What the actual fuck, Mitchell._

Chloe cocks a brow, obviously confused at the response, but nonetheless not amused by it.

Beca mentally slaps herself a few dozen times in the face, closing her eyes and hoping to get the chance of starting this whole interaction over, maybe this time she wouldn't pull things from her ass.

"I mean, thanks?"

Nope, still talking from her ass. Great job, _really_ outdoing herself here.

"I think Beca means she's happy to see you too." Bless Stacie for having mercy and taking the spotlight off of Beca before she had the chance to make herself look even more moronic. What a great friend. "She gets all flustered around smokin' redheads with blue eyes, an _impeccable_ rack and insanely defined stomach muscles."

Erase that last thought; Beca decides Stacie is the _worse_ possible friend to have at this current moment of time.

She also decides that her face can't possibility her any hotter as she can feel the blood rising up to her cheeks when her eyes accidentally slip down Chloe's body in a way so far from subtle that she might as well of taken a picture.

And _of course_ Chloe so happens to catch this blatant movement and the praising smirk she curves up in return only makes Beca want to crawl up into a tiny little ball and roll away forever.

Maybe get hit by a train a few hundred, _thousand_ fucking times.

"Yeah, I guess I forgot to mention," Chloe gestures with her hands above her chest and Beca has to force herself to look at the very fascinating ceiling just because she doesn't trust herself not to stare at Chloe's cleavage again. "All this."

_You guess, Chloe? You guess?_

"So you're a dancer?" Beca finally manages to ask, gesturing her finger above Chloe's very distinct outfit. "A professional, cheerleader, dancer?"

_Is that even a thing?_

"For part time," Chloe answers, politely moving to squat down in the aisle so people could resume watching the game when the buzzer goes off, signaling that halftime is over. "I've been dancing for the Heat for three years once I graduated from college and didn't have my dancing studio yet. Figuring I would not make a healthy living waiting for that to happen, Heat dancer tryouts were going on and I tried out, made the team and have been doing this for all events and homes games."

Beca nods her head as she listens to the few extra details about Chloe that she didn't get the night at the bar. Actually, she didn't get a lot of personal information about the girl, such as her age and since she mentioned graduating college, but not having her dance studio yet, that has to mean she has to be a few years older than Beca.

_Twenty five maybe?_

"Um, hi," Jesse presents his voice all of a sudden and Beca felt bad that she forgot all about him once Chloe arrived. He holds out his hand with the cheesiest smile know to man sported on his face, "I have 2010 to 2016's calendars of you guys hanging up in my room."

Beca facepalms herself; this dude, where the fuck did he come from? Was he dropped on his head as baby?

Admittedly, she doesn't really know what she's more irked about; the fact that she ran into Chloe at a basketball game, only to find out she's one of the insanely hot dancers (which now makes total sense because Chloe is _insanely hot_ and the job well fits the description) and her chances scoring a date with this girl has gone from zero to _non fucking existent_ , or the fact that Jesse just admitted out loud to having several calendars of these dancers hanging up in his college dorm room and she can take a rough guess and assume these pictures aren't the most reserved when it comes to showing off their bodies.

Mainly, she's teetering towards the second one because these dancers aren't fucking Playboy bunnies and she knows exactly how and what teenage boys do with these revealing images of these very attractive females and just the thought of Jesse-and actually a ton of people doing that type of activity towards a photo of Chloe makes her sick to her stomach.

Surprisingly, Chloe just laughs at this comment, not really seeming too squeamish about the creepy confession Jesse just blurted and for sure doesn't help the uneasy feeling in Beca's stomach as she makes it seem like this is a comment that's heard often.

"That's very flattering, thanks!"

Now that Jesse has mentioned this, however, where could Beca possibly snatch one of these _so-called_ calendars that she'll use primarily use for scientific research?

Absolutely nothing else.

"I know it's probably a lot to take in," Chloe snickers and finally she got something right. "But I'd love to explain everything over some coffee or lunch?"

"All of us or just Beca?" Stacie teases, wiggling her eyebrows up and down that are mainly directed towards Beca who wants to also smack the motions out of her.

Laughing lightly, "I mean, I'd say all of you guys, but I'm not too sure I know who you are-except you, who has pictures of me up in their room." Chloe points over to Jesse and his fangirl excitement can be felt without even touching him.

"Oh!" Jake slides to the front of his chair, holding out his hand for Chloe to take. "My name is Jake and this is my buddy Jesse. We are on a double date."

"What?" Chloe frowns mid way through the handshake-and _hold up_. Was that a hint of disappointment in her voice at the reveal that she just walked into a date?

"I'm with Beca and Stacie is with Jake," Jesse clarifies and the flinch in Beca's hand that moves to smack him upside the head is unbearable.

"Awesome, thanks for reiterating that Jesse, thanks a lot," Beca mumbles sarcastically, squinting a nasty scowl over to the filterless boy.

"Oh, well I'm terribly sorry for interrupting your guys' date," Chloe takes her hand back and her voice is the softest Beca has ever heard it before and there's also a hint of thickness accompanied with her words.

Needing to clear up the big elephant in the room, "I'm not on a date with this goof-well I am, _technically_ , but we are just friends." Beca gestures her hand between her and Jesse, thankfully, Jesse confirms this with a nod.

Maybe Beca's losing her tolerance and the beer is fogging up her head a lot faster than she thought, but somewhere across Chloe's impressive structures she thinks she catches a wave of relief wash over the redhead's features at the confirmation that she isn't really on a date, which is something she can't fully interpret and just makes her head throb trying to look deeper into Chloe's curving smile directed to only her.

"Text me later?" Chloe suggests; her smile back and brighter than ever, but the game is stealing most of her attention as her team is dancing along the sidelines with an empty space in the row designated for her. "I'd love to hang out with you sometime."

Beca stutters out a series of just sounds, she thinks, along with a frantic head nod, but luckily Chloe gets the gist of what she's desperately trying to squeeze out and doesn't ask for anymore. Chloe says as sincerely as possible how nice it was to meet everyone, waving goodbye.

Bouncing away after a loud "go heat!" that earns a roar of applause from the crowd in her best enthusiastic, cheerleader voice, Beca watches Chloe skips down the stairs back onto the court to join her team on the sidelines where she's scolded by her coach, it looks like, that she needs to stay on the court at all times, but doesn't seem to affected by the lecturing with the cheeky smile that doesn't for once leave her face.

During her process of making it to the court, Beca also catches a handful of wandering eyes from the crowd as they ogle Chloe's body, worshiping it like a fucking temple-not that Beca can really disagree because Chloe's body _is_ a temple and in the words of John Mayer, her body is a wonderland-which is totally the gayest thing Beca has ever thought.

_Oh my God._

Anyways; it's weird. This whole night has just performed a complete three sixty turn from _eh_ to _holy shit_ at the recognition of Chloe adding even more impressive bullet points under her name.

"I understand why I lost my chance with you and I'm not even upset about it because Chloe Beale is a girl to literally die for," Jesse breathes with his stupid dopey grin, acting completely moonstruck from Chloe's aura.

"Agreed," Jake chips in, as if Beca needed the extra clarification.

Even though they speak the truth-Chloe being a girl to die for and all- that simple truth is the main problem here. Everyone in their right mind fantasizes about having a shot with Chloe; it's evident in all their faces when Chloe steps up to the scene and stuns them with her raw, natural beauty. And seeing this, she simply can't wrap her head around how the fact that Chloe could, in the slightest, have feelings for her.

The rest of the game, all Beca can focus on is that dancing redhead jumping up and down out on the sidelines, amping the crowd up as the Heat beat the Magic in overtime and she just sits there thinking, she totally just got beaten at a game of jenga by a _Goddamn_ Miami Heat dancer.

* * *

Beca doesn't text Chloe that night during the long drive home after the game, even when Stacie keeps pestering her to do it from the driver's seat of the car, urging her to step up something that she considers a date, which really needs no explanation as to why it leaves Beca flabbergasted in the passenger seat.

The main reason why she doesn't text Chloe is simple. She; a small little bartender does not fit the criteria of someone who should be appearing in a girl like Chloe's social circle. It's hard to believe that Chloe would still want to talk to Beca even with her successful occupations and everything she does on her free time.

Again, as Beca said before, but she'll repeat it (just like she had to do with Stacie when the girl wouldn't stop expressing her delusional thoughts about Chloe having a thing for her) Chloe is a **hard** ten on the attractive scale and really, that doesn't even come close to ranking her true attractiveness because if so, that scale would be destroyed cause there's honestly no number to put for Chloe and her God made human form and everything else amazing that comes with her.

Beca can't live up to that standard because not only is she a six on that scale, she's also a nobody who can make delicious alcoholic beverages and can create some sick mash ups on her laptop over some expensive, DJ software that she had to scavenge for change to buy while she's alone in her room.

Plus, it's obvious Stacie has forgotten the biggest reason why Beca would _never_ have a shot with Chloe because back in Miami, Chloe has a boyfriend named Billie, and he's probably tall, insanely good looking and they're probably happily in love and Beca doesn't stand the chance even if Chloe was into her.

Which she totally **isn't**.

Guess she's going to have to decline, decline, decline until Stacie gets it through her mind that Chloe would never _ever_ -even if she was dying- go out with her.

* * *

 

Spending a day alone by herself to process everything from the night before, Beca finally builds up the courage to drop a text by Chloe.

She apologizes for the delay in contacting the redhead, but uses the excuse of being swamped at the bar (instead of admitting that the main reason she didn't contact Chloe was because she was having many in denial thoughts about Chloe still wanting to hang out with her) and though it's a Sunday night and she is off from work and is currently submerged in blankets on her bed, listening to music and stuffing her face with Doritos, it seemed like a valid excuse.

But Chloe doesn't need to know the details.

Chloe buys the work fib and responds that it's totally okay, with a ton of different emojis that she always needs to add to every message ever sent and it kinda makes Beca smile because it's kinda really adorable and totally fits Chloe's bubbly personality.

Usually, Beca ignores anyone that over uses emojis when not needing to-ask Stacie to back this up because she has spent multiple days on the back burner when Beca refused to text her because she went through a phase of only communicating with emoticons and Beca had enough of it.

But when Chloe does it, Beca doesn't feel annoyed and it's a different type feeling that doesn't make her want to use the handy gesture on her iPhone and block Chloe.

It's insane, she knows.

After a while of just talking about how Chloe's day was and how she went to the gym to keep her rock hard abs up to perfection and got a lot of chores done around the apartment that she hasn't got the chance to do because, _duh_ , Chloe's a Heat dancer, she casually drops it by Beca that she and her roommate, Aubrey, are planning on stopping by Blackbird tomorrow night.

When Beca asks what the special occasion to drive four hours up to a bar for some cocktails when they could easily drive _ten_ minutes for a similar bar in Miami with the same type of drinks without wasting so much gas, Chloe doesn't really explain in detail as to _why._  

Except that she could go for another whiskey sour that only tastes the best when Beca makes them and that she had the day off from her second job, the one that wasn't dancing for a professional, NBA basketball team and could really use the ego boost when she beats Beca at another game of jenga.

And being one up for a challenge to redeem herself and unable to control her competitive nature, Beca reserves a couple special drinks that will be ready at the bar for Chloe and Aubrey to pick up when they arrive.

The hard part of the night once Beca sends Chloe off with a friendly, totally platonic "goodnight" text and that she's excited to kick the redhead's ass in jenga tomorrow night is running this news by Stacie; the long legged, devil herself.

Hearing the plans and added company musters up a whole series of lunatic thoughts and only inflates Stacie's theory even more about Chloe being into Beca, which she keeps denying until it sticks into Stacie's big, not applicable delusions that Chloe will never ever ever ever ever **ever** be into her and that her and Chloe are nothing more than friends.

"Friends that totally give each other _orgasms_ ," is what Beca is rewarded with before a boisterous cackle erupts from Stacie and then she's leaving the kitchen and stomps up to her room, ending the conversation with a slam to her door because Stacie Conrad is incorrigible.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished this last (long) bit while having the stomach flu. Send me some love on Tumbla (omACAgee) and if you want to make me feel better, message me pictures of your cats or dogs :)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy the last bit of this! It was a lot of fun to write and I'm glad so many of you enjoy it! Thanks again for the reviews, favorites and follows; you guys make my world go round. :)

"When are they stopping by?" Stacie asks, squeezing some whip cream out from the can and placing it on top to complete the final and last step of a blowjob shot.

Beca tallies up all the drinks an old gentleman ordered throughout the night and tells him his tab total. Taking his cash and generous tip he slipped in, she salutes him a goodbye before putting the bills in the cash register. She wipes her hands off on some paper towels and slides herself up on the bar's counter top to sit.

Swiping out her phone just to double check, "Chloe texted me like an hour ago saying they stopped for gas in Tampa, so I'm assuming they're close," she explains, crossing her legs at the ankles above her black and white converse, swinging them gently back and forth.

Stacie hums her response to the new information, carrying the finished shot over to the group who order it.

"After this one girly you're cut off," she says to the young girl at the bar who has just turned 21 and is obviously hitting an intense level of intoxication- thanks to her pressuring friends- and will no doubt hit her wall after this last and _final_ blow job shot.

The birthday girl mumbles something incoherent; her eyes heavy, bloodshot and a lazy smile is slapped on her face before the phones come flying out around her, chanting to take the shot with only her mouth and she's easily pressured into it as she leans down to cover the top of the shot where all the whip cream is, throwing her head back to swallow the liquid which earns her a roar of an applause.

It's not done well; it's actually done pretty sloppy as the chocolate colored and flavored alcohol dribbles out of the corners of her mouth where her lips secure around the shot glass, but it's very entertaining to watch as a bystander and her friends, including herself, seems to be enjoying themselves on a Monday night.

Of _all_ nights.

"Alright, birthday girl. Make sure you monsters hold her hair back when she's face down in the toilet tonight!" Stacie cheers with a wide smile, taking the empty shot glass and pointing her finger to the group of friends surrounding the inebriated girl. Waving them off as they head out of the bar with a unstable girl under their arms, Stacie takes the money and places it in the register to join the rest.

Exhaling a heavy sigh, "man, do you remember our twenty first birthdays?" Stacie asks, joining Beca up top on the table since their main customers who were ordering the most drinks just left, leaving the bar quiet and basically empty, except for a few who are mostly busy at the pool tables and booths.

Beca snorts a laugh, "I don't know about you, but I definitely _don't_ remember my twenty first."

All she does remember from that night when Stacie flew them out to Vegas for her birthday was that she woke up with the world's biggest hangover that lasted for _at least_ a week after and she left her liver in the toilet back at the hotel. Needless to say, that was the night she truly understood the saying, " _what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."_

"But isn't that the point of them?" She turns to face Stacie who shrugs at this.

"I guess you're right. It's not a twenty first unless you puke."

"Cheers to that." Beca jumps down to make her and Stacie a quick drink. After one, handmade Jameson on the rocks for Stacie and a Jim beam and sprite for her, they clink their glasses, savoring the burn when they swallow down a mouthful.

"I wonder if Aubrey is hot," Stacie mentions all of a sudden once the burn has subsided, head in _la la land_ as she stares up dreamy at the ceiling, already creating a profile for Chloe's roommate.

Out of nowhere, Luke comes up to join them, pouring himself a shot of crown and downing it like a champ. "Working hard or hardly working?" He hisses through the burn.

"Working hard _of course,_ " Stacie tosses her boss a wink when his eyes meet hers after he finishes the second shot he pours immediately. "Because we have _such_ the crowd here tonight." She stretches her arm back to the empty dance floor and the few people seated in the booths, proving a point that tonight is more than a little slow, which is normal since it's a Monday night.

"Don't worry though, things will kick up because Beca has the hottest girl on the planet coming in tonight and she's bringing along another hottie for _moi_."

"What happened with you and Jake?" Luke questions curiously, already knowing after a few casual conversations with Jake over some beers that he swooned over Stacie's entire existence.

"Yeah Stace, what _did_ happen with you two?" Beca eggs evilly, twisting the black straw in her drink around the ice cubes.

Stacie squints her eyes and narrows her brows and Beca knows it's because she's already said this multiple times in the past few days. "Come on, Becs. I told you already that I only see him as a friend. He's hot, he's super nice but is he enough to tie down the hunter? Hell no."

Hunter, in case you all were wondering, is Stacie's vagina. Beca already knows how weird and unorthodox it is for Stacie to refer to an anatomy part as a dude, trust her, she's tried many times to get this pass her friend's head, but Stacie didn't budge. Now, it's gotten to a point where it's normal to refer to Stacie's lady bits as the "hunter," since Stacie's actions totally make sense as to why she calls it that.

"I don't know, Stace. At the basketball game, there was a ton of mixed signals. Holding hands, the random kisses on the cheek that only led up to the finale smooch when we parted ways," Beca reminds skeptically.

She remembers this keenly; Jake nearly fainted when Stacie pulled the first move and dropped a kiss over his gaped mouth. It was short and sweet; no tongue or anything was exchanged (which was surprising by itself, knowing how Stacie can go from schoolgirl to pornstar in the mere matter of seconds).

But she also knows how Stacie politely let the boy down the next morning when she defined their relationship as only friends. He seemed truly disappointed, but respected her wishes and actually kept a conversation afterwards, which was faith that Stacie would still be friends with good ol' Jakey.

"What about you, Becky?" Luke shines the light at Beca this time. "Who's this hot girl you're meeting for a date?"

"Chloe Beale, twenty five year old, successful dance teacher from Tampa Florida and also one of the Miami Heat dancers," Stacie steals the question, as if she read Chloe's Wikipedia page online and remembered these details. "Total hotty with a bangin' body and a pair of eyes that could easily take over the world."

"Redhead from a couple nights ago?" Luke lights up. With the extra description of the girl, only one fits the category as he vaguely remembers how all the pervy old men around the bar kept pestering him about who the redhead was.

Stacie nods her head, tongue poking out devilishly as she nudges Beca in the arm while singing " _bow-chicka-wow-wow"_ in the most seductive pitch and a body roll to add.

" _You_ have a date with _her_?!" Luke points a finger to a tiny, unamused brunette who ignores Stacie's nudges and keeps her arms crossed above her chest. "The bloody redhead that _everyone_ in this bar wanted that night?"

Beca tries to answer but once again, her response is stolen straight from her mouth.

" _Yep_!" Stacie might as well answer all the questions directed towards Beca since she hasn't had a problem doing it for the past few Luke has asked. "Probably because everyone knew she was a Miami Heat dancer."

Luke's eyes widen in size as he slams one of his hands onto the table when the lightbulb goes off. "I _knew_ that redhead looked familiar!" he exclaims as if he just solved the Da Vinci code. "Now no way in Hell would she go for you, mate. Girl is probably straighter than an arrow."

Just because he is British and everything that comes out of his mouth sounds so proper and intelligent, doesn't make Beca feel any better about herself when he verbally shows how unpersuaded he is that she could've possibly scored a date with Chloe. At least he, as well, understands how unrealistic it is, unlike Stacie, who thinks she's going to be Beca's maid of honor at hers and Chloe's wedding.

"It's _not_ a date, Conrad and shut up, Luke," Beca corrects, softly pushing the taller girl away with a few rolls to her eyes when Stacie continues to say that it is, in fact, a date.

A _double date._

Luke shakes his head with a low chuckle, unable to believe Beca would score one with the hottest girl he's ever seen before who also happens to be a Miami Heat dancer. Taking out two more shot glasses, he slides one to Beca and one to Stacie before topping the glasses off with Crown Royal.

"Date or not, you're gonna need a few of these."

Beca doesn't argue against the shot Luke offers her, though she can admit with full honesty that she doesn't in the slightest bit feel nervous about tonight. Maybe it's because she's already told herself many times to the point of it being written in stone and imprinted in her head that being nervous around Chloe is pointless because she doesn't stand a chance anyway. So, why not accept being friends with the redhead and move on with life?

Friends is a lot better than nothing.

All three of them raise the shot glasses before Luke leads the toast, "here's to a night where, hopefully, Beca does not talk out of her ass and ruin Blackbird's reputation that Chloe has built in her head so she keeps coming back here for customer purpose and I stay _bloody_ rich."

"Can't promise I won't," Beca mumbles, rolling her eyes at Luke, but unable to keep in a laugh. God, he's such an ass sometimes.

"And to a night where, _hopefully_ , Stacie gets laid," Stacie finishes the toast with a chirp, ignoring the scrunch in faces she receives when talking in third person.

Clinking all the glasses together, they each swallow down the shot and with perfect timing, the front doors to the bar swing open and reveal Chloe and a equally attractive blonde conjoined at the arms, searching around the perimeter.

Apparently, Stacie doesn't swallow the alcohol down in time before her eyes land on the blonde, taken clearly by surprise at everything the girl brought to the table, and she violently hacks up a small amount of the liquid while Beca pats her back, highly amused at her friend's coughing fit, but also trying to ease it down before she has to perform CPR.

It rarely ever comes that Stacie gets slapped in the face with another person's attractiveness to cause her to physically convulse, so Beca is trying to savor the first experienced moment of this blonde causing Stacie to hit such a level of shock with her looks because who knows when it will happen again.

" _Holy shit,_ " Stacie wheezes in between coughs, moving the back of her hand to wipe at the liquid that didn't make it into her mouth. Bouncing back like given a shot of adrenaline, she tosses the empty glass into the sink and darts out from behind the bar to meet Chloe and her friend half way.

"Hi, I'm Stacie, Beca's best friend in the entire world and _you_ are super hot." This blunt comment is only directed to the blonde, but it takes the entire bar by storm at the way she handled this first time greeting.

Help needed dearly by the stunned look on the blonde's face, Beca comes in for the rescue and joins the group. "Stacie, also known as _thee_ most subtle person on the planet and also, basically filterless when it comes to her word choices," Beca introduces with a smirk and a slight bit of sarcasm that tugs a bright smile out of Chloe.

"I'm also a lady who gets what she wants and I definitely like what I see," Stacie morphs her face into a wolfish grin; the blonde only blinks, face blank and unsure if what just came out of this girl's mouth _actually_ just came out, or was she just hallucinating the entire thing.

Chloe reintroduces the pair in a far more proper and polite way. "This is Aubrey, she's my roommate. Aubrey, this is Beca and you kinda already know Stacie."

"Are you always that blunt?" Aubrey directs this question to Stacie with a poker face, not too sure how to process the way Stacie is staring at her right now and if she enjoys it, or if the look is making her feel uncomfortable.

"I may be blunt but I never lie, Aubrey," Stacie coos, lifting a hand for a formal handshake, but only intensifying the flirtation in the air between her and the blonde. "It's nice to meet you."

Glancing at the hand skeptically, Aubrey finally lifts her own hand up to complete the firm shake. "Likewise," she says, quirking her lips into a small smile, surprisingly, and there's a faint patch of pink on each cheek.

Beca sits back with Chloe during the exchange. She can't even blame Stacie for being so taken back by Aubrey's profile because the girl is just as hot as Chloe, with her long, sleek blonde hair and emerald pair of eyes. Plus, girl has some legs on her, thanks to the jeans shorts flaunting them like a noble prize.

 _Of course_ , unlike Beca, Stacie, who was blessed with incredible genes and personality, at least has a chance with someone as good looking as Aubrey, which Beca envies more than she would like.

Chloe takes the free chance during the other pair's interaction to envelope Beca into a tight hug; her warm body and delightful smell of some type of perfume she's wearing, dazing Beca out cold as she gets a strong whiff and feel of both as she arches her neck over Chloe's shoulder and into the loosely curled mane of red hair.

For the second unexpected hug she's been given from Chloe it goes a hell of a lot smoother than the previous one at the game when Beca acted like a statue while Chloe did all the work. This time, without any hesitation whatsoever, she wraps her arms around Chloe's waist and sinks into the contact, truly enjoying every second of it and the warmth Chloe's body gives off.

Chloe is the first to pull away from the hug-much to Beca's dismay. She has a wide smile; one that's an abnormal size that almost looks painful and most definitely a smile to almost touch her ears with the corners of her mouth. "Hey, I missed you." She points and plucks at Beca's black t-shirt around the collarbone. "You look good tonight."

Beca snorts, rolling her eyes as a defense mechanism to try and rid the butterflies she feels fluttering around when hearing this. " _Yeah_ _right_. I'm in my work clothes with a giant bird on the front. As for missing me, that's also a bluff because I think you mean you missed my _drinks_." The next move Beca does surprises herself as she throws a playful wink over to Chloe, a tint of pink blooming above her cheeks when doing so. "You look great though."

Which is an understatement because Chloe could wear a paper bag over her head and still look _amazing_.

But tonight, Chloe looks good- _really_ good in a more casual look; a pair of white, ripped up skinny jeans that frame her whole lower half to perfection and a dark blue, silky blouse for a top to bring out her eyes in the most intense way ever.

And can we just talk about the black, spaghetti strap tank top underneath that is doing wonders for Chloe's cleavage; Beca can admit this as she has slapped herself multiple times, mentally, not to try and sneak a glimpse because with her luck, she'd be caught.

And that's just not something she wants to explain tonight.

"Thanks." Chloe must've seen Beca's wandering eyes over her outfit because there is now a definite blush rising to her cheeks above a shy smile and Beca can't help but think what an actual treasure this girl is. "As I do recall, a little birdy told me that drinks would be ready for us when we get here."

"Jab towards my height, Beale? I don't know if I wanna make you your drink anymore." Beca crosses her arms, looking anywhere but Chloe's teasing face that quickly turns into the cutest fucking puppy dog pout Beca has ever seen and it doesn't take long for her deadpan expression to crack, a smirk taking its place.

She gestures with her head over to the empty bar now that Luke has left somewhere, probably back into his office to do boss stuff. Her and Stacie slide through the back of the bar while Chloe and Aubrey take their seats on the stools.

"Whiskey sour?" Beca is already in the process of pulling out all the supplies until she's stopped mid way through her movements as she reaches for the sugar.

"Long Island ice tea please," Chloe asks for instead, mischievous smirk matching Beca's when the drink name is said. "What better night to get fucked up than a Monday night when I have nothing important to do tomorrow," she clarifies with a wink that Beca has surprisingly built some tough skin not to be affected by it as much.

However, the thing that really takes her for a whirl is the dropped curse word in Chloe's sentence, and it's then she's positive the word "fuck" has never sounded _so good_ coming from someone else when hearing it fall so easily from the redhead's mouth.

Beca doesn't respond to this, nor does she think she could even try if she had something to say. Switching her attention to Aubrey, she asks, "what can I get you?"

"I'll just take a iced water please."

Stacie and Beca both share a puzzled glance at each other once hearing the drink order. Beca didn't expect anything less from Aubrey because it already seems like the girl is on more of the reserved side and only once in a blue moon would she ever let her hair down and get a little crazy.

And speaking of this, _Aubrey_ is the type of girl who would order a blue moon and two orange slices, not Beca.

That's offensive just by itself.

Stacie gives Beca a look that is screaming to have a little fun and for once, Beca decides to play along, knowing it would be a hilarious reaction they'd get from Aubrey if they were to add a little fun in the mix.

"Did she seriously just order a _water_ , Stace?" Beca questions, switching her attention between Stacie and Aubrey, who clearly doesn't understand why ordering a water was such a crime.

"I think she did, Becs," Stacie replies casually as she reaches for the water gun before handing it over to Beca. "You know what that means."

Aubrey and Chloe both share a terrified look with the gun now in Beca's hand-Aubrey more so than Chloe since the gun is pointed directly towards her.

Raising her hands up like she has just been caught by the police, "oh my God-are you serious?!" Aubrey rushes out; the rest of her sentence gets swallowed up by just panicked sounds that don't really sound like English.

Beca does the honor of starting the chant, "Hell no, H2O!" that is soon joined by Stacie egging it on, slamming her fist into the table for background noise while the drinks on the table shake.

By this point, Chloe is rolling on her stool in pain from laughing so hard at the petrified look washing over Aubrey's face as she rushes out a series of apologies and pleas not to spray her. The few people in the bar are also intrigued by what's happening, unsure of what really is going on, or if this is a new tradition Blackbird is starting.

Honestly, Beca kind of enjoys it.

"Please, I'll do anything! Just _don't_ shoot me!" Aubrey is borderline crying this plea and it breaks Beca into a hyena fit of laughter that Chloe and Stacie join because she fucking _knew_ she'd get a damn good reaction from this girl.

" _Anything_ you say?" Stacie says all of a sudden, lowering Beca's hands that holds the gun away from Aubrey as she leans in close, placing her hands firm on the table out in front of the blonde. "Give me a kiss at the end of this date and we promise not to shoot you-though I can't promise you won't get wet."

 _Holy shit,_ Beca thinks once hearing this. "Oh wow…that escalated quickly." Stacie is for sure on her game tonight with the lines she's dropping on Aubrey, who seems to be reacting to them in a way Beca never imagined a girl like her would.

How can someone be this presumptuous, crass, and _smooth_ all at the same time? 

Crossing her arms above the table and leaning in equally as close to Stacie's face, "get a few drinks in my system and we will see what you get," Quirking her lips up into a smirk, Aubrey responds with her own flirty comeback and a salacious wink, stunning Stacie, Chloe and Beca all by the unexpected response.

After a brief second of silence that floods the group, Stacie finally is the one to break it up. "Okay then," she starts, taking the challenge and heads for the alcohol collection.

Making it there, she scans until her hands land on the Gin, which Beca gasps, then she picks up the tonic water to go with it and Beca gasps even louder. Putting all the items in front of Aubrey, Stacie snatches a uncut lime before tossing it up and down in her hands.

"I think I know the _perfect_ drink for you," Stacie's voice is a low and very intimidating purr that seems to affect Beca and Chloe more than Aubrey since she's seen only taunting the bartender, waiting for her to put a little bite to her bark.

"Should I be worried?" Beca whispers over to Chloe as she watches Stacie pour the drinks.

Still focused entirely on the scene and how easy it was for Aubrey to join Stacie's little flirting game, "for the first time like... _ever_ , I have no idea. This is the first time since college I've seen Aubrey act this way."

"Well Stacie is notorious for breaking people out of their shells," Beca shrugs with a light chuckle, moving to get the right ingredients for a Long Island ice tea.

Luke makes his appearance again, sliding up behind the bar and stealing all the drinks from both Stacie and Beca. When he is rewarded with two puzzled faces as to what he is doing and why, he explains, nodding his head out to the other side of the bar where customers usually sit.

"Go on. I can take it from here."

"You kicking us out already?" Beca arches a brow but it doesn't stop her from letting Luke finish the drink she has started and move out from behind the bar.

Stacie gets the first part of hearing this and basically teleports from point A to point B, which is right beside of Aubrey on the bar stools, admiring the blonde with a dreamy glint in her snakey, jade eyes.

"Enjoy your date," Luke says in a low enough volume for only Beca to hear when she squeezes by.

"It's _not_ a date," Beca hisses under her breath and rolls her eyes when she's given a disbelieving smirk from Luke as he finishes their drinks.

 _Jesus_ , some people just don't understand, though, she respects their dedication and effort and delusion to think she would stand a chance with Chloe.

From there on out once all the drinks are delivered, the night only gets weirder for the group. With the night now off from bartending, all thanks to Luke being a real wingman, and some very strong drinks in their system, Stacie and Beca take on the jukebox by the horns and do a very crappy, uncoordinated line dance version of "Cotton Eye Joe" for Chloe and Aubrey's amusement. It took a while for Beca to be convinced to do this, especially in public, no matter if it was only Luke, Chloe, Aubrey and a few people around the bar who would be watching.

But eventually she caved, half because of the liquid courage she has been gifted with after Chloe insisted her to drink _three_  Long Island ice teas-one she shared with Chloe- and something about saying no to Chloe and her big blue eyes seemed like an impossible task to do.

The other half was because Stacie forced her against her will; no help from Aubrey and Chloe as they encouraged it with chants to get her out there on the dance floor and a series of claps when she makes a complete fool of herself as she struggles to keep up with Stacie's dance moves.

About halfway into her gin and tonic, Aubrey's conservative side opens up like a book and the flirtatious banter between her and Stacie seem to only intensify as the night continues. Beca tries to call them out on it, teasing them about how they need to get a room, but it blows up in her face when Aubrey gets very vocal with her word choices and starts to make fun of Beca's height and earrings that she calls "ear monstrosities" and then her teasing ends up with a bent ego before Aubrey apologizes with that evil smirk of hers.

But then Chloe assures Beca that she adores her "ear monstrosities," height, and atrocious dance moves and nothing else really seems to matter anymore because Chloe loving something is a pretty big deal because, she too, is a _pretty big deal._

Given the opportunity while they start to settle and have taken up four spots in the booth, Beca swings her arm behind Chloe to rest, not fully knowing what urged this bold movement, but also not really complaining because she could've sworn-even if it sounds crazy-that Chloe gravitated closer to her on the seat with the new opening in space.

But she tries to push it away and not look too much into it because her and Chloe are just friends and will always be _just friends._

Around three drinks in, the God ancient karaoke machine gets broken out after dusting off the thick layers of cobwebs from being in the basement with all the cased alcohol for so long. Finding the microphones happens to be the only hard part in setting up the instrumental music already programmed into the jukebox and once a pair of identical microphones appear in Luke's hands as he eagerly awaits the performances destined to be hilarious and _very_ entertaining, Beca and Chloe take on a duet after Stacie and Aubrey perform a very intoxicated, yet very impressive version of "Islands in the Stream."

"I can't believe I'm about to do this right now," Beca murmurs as she bends over to flip through songs in the jukebox library. Never in a million years would she think that anybody could force her into singing in front of people.

But that was before Chloe tripped and fell into her lap and flipped her whole life upside down in the best way, _of course._

Chloe leans down to look over Beca's shoulder at the music choices, not for once minding the lack of distance she has put between her face and Beca's. "Oh come on, it's going to be fun."

Beca takes steady deeps breaths as the feeling of Chloe's voice vibrates so close to her ear and the faint smell of alcohol radiates out from Chloe's mouth, but can't stop the goosebumps and hair on the back of her neck from rising.

"Aubrey and I use to do this all the time in college since we were in an acappella group called the Bellas."

"Acappella?" Beca asks, unfamiliar with the word, but knowing she's heard of it. "That's a thing now?"

"Oh totes. We were _the tits._ " Beca twists around to face Chloe. Did she really just refer to an acapella group as the tits? That's almost worse than admitting to sing in one of these _so-called_ acapella groups. "We use no instruments whatsoever and all the noises you hear come straight from our _mouths_."

Beca shakes her head with a small laugh, not allowing her mind to fall deep in the gutter while imagining what other noises Chloe might be referring to- _oh my God that sounded a lot dirtier than intended_. "Yikes."

Chloe rolls her eyes and bumps Beca away from the jukebox with her hip, taking a look for herself at a possible song they could sing. Beca grants the music device over to Chloe and looks over at the occupied booth they both came from, taking a gander at Stacie and Aubrey, who are seen from the distance, obviously enjoying themselves by the close proximity and lingering stares being exchanged.

"Sorry for releasing the animal tonight on your friend," Beca apologizes genuinely, though she doesn't know why she's saying sorry in the first place since by the looks of it, Aubrey seems to also be enjoying the flirting coming from the long legged seductress herself. "Stacie is hard one to keep tamed, especially if she's attracted towards someone."

Chloe angels her head over her shoulder to get a side glimpse at the pair Beca's attention has been glued to. "I actually should be thanking you. Aubrey hasn't really gotten out since she's started her master classes, especially on a date." She smiles when Stacie is seen whispering something in her friend's ear, then with a gaped mouth, gets smacked in the stomach by Aubrey due to whatever Stacie just said. "I like Stacie; she not scared to say what she wants and it's evident that Aubrey likes it as well. Usually, her dates smother her in cheesy compliments because they're terrified, not that I blame them. Aubrey comes off a little... _too_ strong and uptight for people's taste."

Beca can admit it's true; Aubrey didn't seem like a type of girl who'd be caught in a bar and definitely not a type of girl who would be attracted to a girl as crass as Stacie, but all she can think about is how Chloe just referred to this little get together as a date.

Which means that either her and Chloe are playing Cupid, just in case Stacie or Aubrey needs to use the bad date bailout card, or that this is a double.

And that's something that possibly can't be true.

Whatever; she shakes it off for the most part, not wanting to dwell on the little questions that are irrelevant when she already knows the answers to them.

Changing the subject away from the topic of _dates_ , "so, anything else you wanna tell me? Because first the Miami Heat deal and now the nerdy, acapella singer from college? Is your name even really Chloe Beale?"

There's a change in pitch to Chloe's laugh; it comes out a lot lower and deeper than her usual chipper, high pitched giggle she hits people with more times than actual words. Then, there's a glint hidden in her eyes once she turns away from the jukebox that coils Beca's insides and makes it hard to breathe.

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." Beca doesn't know why Chloe decides to whisper this, like, is she planning something? Or should Beca be concerned about her life's safety right now? Either way though, despite the whisper and kinda threat,(maybe? Who knows) everything leaving Chloe's mouth hits Beca in all the right places. "Besides, isn't that the point of secrets? To make sure no one else finds out?"

Beca shrugs her shoulders, nodding her head side to side as she thinks. "I mean, it depends on the secret. Like, there's a difference between keeping something a secret like a surprise party, and keeping a secret that you killed someone...hashtag, how long did it take to find out who A was in PLL?"

Chloe's laughs a louder more herself sound at the reference, lolling her head back to pull a pretty wide smile out from Beca as well. "Well, I guess that just means you just have to wait and see the reveal of all my secrets. You have to earn my trust somehow."

"I already bought you a shit ton of drinks, Beale, that I could've easily drugged, then taken you to my home and do whatever it was that I wanted to do to you," Beca tries to reason.

"Who said anything about being drugged to get me to go home with you?" Beca's breath hitches and she's unable to chose whether it was the wink she got from Chloe after saying this or the actual words that came from her mouth. Before she can dwell on the options, Chloe speaks up again. "I have a song for us to sing."

Beca appreciates the change in topic because she honestly didn't know how much longer her sanity would give under Chloe's stare before she ended up combusting. She also takes a look at the song choice lined up on the juke box and is surprised when she reads the title "Titanium" by David Guetta for the song Chloe settled on.

"You know David Guetta?" It's a dumb question; a really dumb question that Beca realizes once it's already out of her mouth.

And she should've be prepared for the sarcastic "um yeah! Do I live under a rock?" response that Chloe hits her with, furrowed brows, but a hint of a teasing smile poking at the corners of her mouth.

"This song is my jam," Chloe clarifies with a sharp nod, then leans in as if she's going to whisper something, "my _lady jam_."

Beca squints her eyes while Chloe continues to bounce her eyebrows like the term has a deeper meaning and maybe is even dirtier than what Beca thinks."okay, Urban Dictionary, what the Hell does that mean?"

"Wouldn't you like to find out," comes Chloe's witty reply with another slow motion wink and all Beca can think is _um, yes. That's why I asked you._ "Take me out to dinner first, Becs. I'm a _lady_."

"What are you even talking about, dork?" Beca laughs at this playful side of Chloe. She knew the girl consumed a lot of alcohol tonight, plus the few Long Island ice teas, which is destined to fuck up anybody with regardless of who you are in a blink of an eye, but _wow_.

Chloe is feeling herself tonight.

She also doesn't respond to Beca's question and instead, cues up the song to the speakers in the bar, signaling everyone around for something Beca really doesn't want to do.

"You lead?" Chloe asks, but it also sounds like an order and Beca kinda is finding it hard to follow because her heart is pounding so violently in her chest now that she is under the spotlight.

Oh well.

Here goes nothing.

Beca takes the opening lyrics of the song, starting off soft to build her voice up gradually. This whole karaoke deal was something new to her, though, she knew she could sing and knew she could sing pretty damn well since she was lucky enough to get majority of her mom's side of the family genes and in them was the talent to sing. But never did she have the courage, nor did she really want to sing in front of people who weren't her mom or Stacie.

It takes a while for her voice to hit a volume where she feels comfortable and it's not until Chloe's beautiful, soprano voice joins in to create a perfect harmony that she feels all the nerves that were holding her back dissolve, allowing her to sing like she really knew how and not only impress both Aubrey and Luke, but also the few people who happen to be watching the performance intently.

She knows it's really fucking cheesy and the total definition of queerballs, but as she sings with Chloe on the dance floor in this hype, low key modernized bar, she swears that she gets lost in those two, pools of blue and barely has the strength to pull herself out before she's stuck in them forever.

They sound amazing together; she knows it, Aubrey and Stacie know it, Luke knows it and the rest of the bar knows it. Was there anything Chloe couldn't do? Like, seriously, because it seems like the girl is this God handmade, bionic creation to ever walk this earth, shocking everyone by just breathing.

They end the song beautifully, not breaking eye contact the entire time, which is crazy because eye contact usually freaks her out, but with Chloe, she thinks she could stare at the redhead's eyes for the rest of her life and it'd be perfectly fine.

"Guess I discovered another one of your secrets, Beale," Beca breathes, a whole new adrenaline streaming through her veins as the applause from the bar's audience surrounds her. Although she wasn't stoked about getting out on the floor to sing a stupid radio song hit, she's glad she did.

And she's also glad she got to sing with Chloe; the walking talking gem that has a voice of an angel.

"Same could be said about you, bartender." Chloe counters with a lazy smile, equally as winded. She takes Beca's hand after curtseying to mostly only Aubrey and Stacie, who are going ballistic with their cheering (making Beca feel only slightly uncomfortable with the amount of attention they’re drawing to her) and leads her back over to the booth to sit.

Making it there, Stacie and Aubrey flood them with endless compliments; Aubrey digs up from the grave her and Chloe's acapella group in college and claims that Beca, if she were to change her alternative style and got rid of all the piercings, would've made a great asset to the group. The finger held up high is what Aubrey is rewarded with from Beca and the whole group falls into more casual talk.

Somehow, (Beca is fully blaming Stacie for this one) they stumble upon the topic of exes and Chloe is in the process of telling the group about her high school boyfriends and few hook ups during college until one of them stands out like a sore thumb.

"You dated Carter Jenkins?" Beca asks dumbfounded. She wasn't gung ho about movies, actors and Hollywood life that wasn't music wise, but she knew of the dude for sure. Also, the second name that rang a bell. "And met Channing Tatum?"

"I wouldn't call it dating, _per say_ ," Chloe says, thinking of the right words to explain this moment of her college experience. "He was a major theatre kid in college and acapella groups seemed to fall in the same social circle. One thing lead to another after a couple of beers and yeah. He was Jewish, so he transferred to some Hebrew school then started working on commercials, so we fell out of touch."

Stacie and Beca nod their heads as they listen intently. The closest they've been to meeting, or even talking to a celebrity was when they got VIP tickets to Miami's Ultra Music festival last year. Even then, they only took a picture with some of the DJs that lasted no longer than a few seconds, so hearing this about Chloe is more than mind blowing. Especially how casual she made it seem to hang out with celebrities, like this was a normal thing to do.

Which it most definitely _isn't_.

"And Channing Tatum, yes, with his wife Jenna," Chloe chirps with a smile, similar to how anyone in their right mind would respond if given the chance to meet such a dynamic duo. "Big fans of the Heat, obviously because Channing is from Florida."

_What in the literal fuck?_

"Do you meet a lot of celebrities with being a dancer?" Stacie asks curiously, holding up her chin with a fist.

"Oh yeah," Chloe confirms as if meeting a lot of celebrities was an understatement. "Especially when Lebron was still on the team."

Beca could really care less about basketball players, though she knows Lebron James is like an all star in the basketball world, so it makes sense how people would go crazy over some tickets to see him play. What she can't wrap her head around is the fact that Chloe revolves herself around all this high class society, celeb life and acts like it's a totally normal thing.

Just like how Chloe goes through her phone to show everyone a picture of her and Megan Fox, who is fingering her cleavage in the least shameful way possible that she had to dig out of tons of other celebrity photos that build her camera roll during basketball games, both home and away.

But seriously? Megan _fucking_ Fox? That woman was the main reason behind Beca's bicurious-ness in high school after being forced against her will to go see the Transformers movies with Stacie and it was during those agonizing hours of forcing herself to stay awake when she fell in love with another god given creation.

Also, can she admit that now Megan Fox is a total MILF?

It doesn't really get better than that, honestly.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Chloe announces, lifting her hand off the top of Beca's thigh that she didn't realize was there until it was gone, probably because she was too focused on all the famous pictures Chloe was showing and telling stories to everybody to even notice the extra touchy gesture.

"I'll go with you!" Stacie says, standing up from the booth and following Chloe to the back where the restrooms were located while Beca watches them until they're both are out of sight, leaving her with the one person she'd rather not be alone with due to multiple reasons that don't even need to be announced.

"So, Aubrey-"

"Cut the small talk, midget," Aubrey harshly cuts Beca off before she can try to start a casual conversation with the blonde who only seems to become scarier by the second. "I'm here to make things straight."

"That's definitely not me," Beca tries to crack a joke that's only rewarded with awkward silence, thus making her want to jump off a bridge.

Beca has no idea what's going on right about now, other than she's alone with a woman from a real life scary movie, no witnesses in sight to see her upcoming death and she can only blink dumbly with her mouth hanging slack at the stern, determined expression on Aubrey face. What was this lunatic even talking about and why is it her that's all of a sudden on this lunatic's hit list?

"Chloe's a super nice girl who gets taken advantage of _constantly_ by assholes. She's a loving, sweetheart who always puts others' needs before her own and though I've told her many times she'll just get hurt in the end, she still insists on treating people above and beyond how they should be treated."

Beca is about to say something to this, mostly that these are already facts that she knows about Chloe, but Aubrey holds up a single finger to let her know she's _not_ done talking and that until she finishes, Beca will stay silent and keep her mouth shut unless she wants to be strangled by that one, single finger.

So, not testing her luck with her life on the line, not knowing what this psychopath is capable of, Beca zips her lips, handing the mic back over to Aubrey before the blonde deep throats her with it.

Descriptive, she knows and she apologizes for that, but it's true.

"As I was saying, Chloe is the type of girl who gives a lot to barely get half in return. She falls for people insanely fast and doesn't know a bad apple from a good one." Aubrey pauses, expecting something from Beca because apparently it's okay for her to talk now, but what she soon finds out is that she's too scared to talk anyway, so Aubrey continues after exhaling a heavy sigh. "What I'm trying to say is that at first, I had a lot of rocky thoughts about you, but seeing how you and Chloe act around each other and the obvious chemistry between you two, I can't help but admit you two are perfect for each other."

Beca barks a loud laugh, thinking this has to be the funniest thing she's ever heard, but Aubrey clearly doesn't agree as she sits with a deadpan face and crossed hands over the table, finding nothing in the slightest funny about what she just said.

Quickly sobering up from the laughing by the intense glare she's receiving from Aubrey, she clears her throat before asking for more clarification about what Aubrey meant, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Aubrey rolls her eyes so hard that is hurts Beca's head. "You and Chloe? About how you two would make a good couple and how you're a good choice for her after the scumbags she's been with, though, I'm not too sure anymore because you don't seem like the brightest-"

"What are you implying here?" It's Beca's turn to cut Aubrey off, unable to put two and two together as to what she means. "Because what it sounds like is that you're telling me Chloe... _Chloe fucking Beale_ and I would be good together as in dating?

"Isn't this what tonight is?" Aubrey asks skeptically. "A double date?"

Okay, now Beca has hit a whole new high of confusion that makes her want to bang her head against the nearest wall. That's not the drift she has been getting all night. It mostly just felt like Chloe and her where the awkward bystanders on a date going on between Stacie and Aubrey, not together as in a group, because that would imply Chloe has a thing for her,which again, just isn't possible.

"Why would Chloe be going on dates if she has a boyfriend back home?" It's Aubrey's turn to be struck by the confusion sticks as she knits her brows together and narrows her eyes down to a size that isn't picking up what Beca's putting down. "Billie? Probably some hot male model with a crazy jawline and a sculpted body?" she chooses not to continue with an unnecessary description, figuring Aubrey, by now, should already catch her drift that she doesn't live up to Chloe's choice in dating material.

Aubrey just stares at Beca for a solid chunk of time until she explodes with a howl of a laugh that shakes the bar's windows as Beca thinks of the few possible ways this conversation can get any weirder. Perhaps, both she and Aubrey had drank a lot more than they thought and that's the reason for hearing such crazy things.

"Billie isn't Chloe's boyfriend," Aubrey manages to squeak this out in between gasps, now running out of breath from laughing so hard. "Billie is Chloe's dog."

Oh.

Oh wow.

Beca's entire body deflates into the seat; Aubrey is obviously waiting for some type of response from the unresponsive girl, but ends up with only a few stuttered words.

"I-I….I don't...I don't under-" Beca starts to say, but her throat all of a sudden feels like she just swallowed the Sahara desert, so she reaches for her drink to take some of the dryness away, hoping that maybe afterwards she'll be able to talk coherently.

"Beca, Chloe's into you. Like _way_ into you," Aubrey clarifies.

Ever since witness a real life spit take?

Well Aubrey now has, all thanks to Beca who is mid drink with a mouthful of some alcoholic concoction Stacie made that included sprite and vodka when she hears this news, causing her to feel the eruption of the liquid bubbling in the back of her throat, just about ready to blow with nothing to prevent it from coming. Thankfully, (because she's sure that would've been the final straw to pull before Aubrey rips her head off) she catches majority of the drink with her hand, so it doesn't go spraying all over the table and most importantly, Aubrey, who is glaring at her like she's a crazy person.

However, not only does the burning alcohol start dribbling out in the most unattractive way from Beca's nostrils, it also happens to sneak down the wrong pipe and cause her to choke on what looks like thin air until she's blue in the face and her veins as popping out.

"Believe me, I had the same reaction when I heard from Chloe that she thought the bartender working at Blackbird was extremely attractive with all her tattoos and piercings and heavy makeup around the eyes. For a second, I thought Chloe was referring to some Marilyn Manson fan she met at the bar." Aubrey snickers at her **unfunny** joke, totally ignoring Beca's near death experience and decides to find humor in her rude comment about Beca's wardrobe.

All Beca tries to focus on is breathing, before she ends up passing out and reaches for a napkin to at least clean up and dry the mess all over her hand and crotch, just in case Stacie and Chloe happen to pee unnaturally fast.

Last thing she needs is a wet crotch with zero explanation as to how it got wet when Chloe comes back.

She didn't think it was possible to feel this hot all over her body, but as she replays Aubrey's words over and over again inside her head, the hotter she gets. It feels like she just dunked herself into a tub of gasoline from the head down and lit a match before setting herself on fire.

Her heart is beating so fast that she literally thinks it's about to detach from whatever it is her heart cavity is connected to, fall down into the pit of her stomach and somehow get lost. Maybe she is hyperventilating; she doesn't know. What she does know is that she is freaking the fuck out at the fact that Chloe **is so totally into her** and like...what the fuck, **why**?!

Beca nearly jumps out of her seat when Chloe makes her appearance again with a teasing, "what'd I miss?" and slides comfortably into the booth, so close her leg brushes against Beca's skin and her initial reaction is to freeze. To forget every word in English speaking dictionary and to sweat buckets from both the high levels of heat radiating from her toes to her head and that fact that this double date is about to resume.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asks all of a sudden when she senses the extra fidgety behavior from Beca every time she tries to sit closer.

"Yeah Becs you look like you just saw a ghost," Stacie adds with her own amusement to the shade of white that has just crept up onto Beca's face, along with the sudden clamminess.

"Yeah," Beca lies. "Yeah no...I'm good." No she's not. She's most definitely _not_ good. "I just…" she starts after a clear to her throat, scanning the area while also thinking of a good excuse to cover as to why she's acting so differently. As she desperately tries to come up with something, Chloe connects their hands underneath the table and _boy oh boy_ does that not make thinking any easier. Not one bit.

"Bathroom!" she blurts, unable to think of anything better, but physically _needing_ to get away from the scene and to try to compose herself, if that is at all possible.

Beca snatches her hand away from Chloe's grip, probably in a more blatant way then what she was trying to do. Then she doesn't even wait for Chloe to step out of the booth for her to leave and instead squeezes herself through the tightly enclosed space that definitely isn't built for two people to move around in. After struggling and grunting her way through the booth over Chloe's thighs, she stumbles away with her brain short wiring and stomach knotting unpleasantly, briefly catching a harsh "what did you say to her?" from Chloe and is directed to Aubrey before she power walks into the bathroom.

Her first stop when making it there is to dart for the nearest stall, thinking she's about to puke all the consumed alcohol and probably a few internal organs, but it ends up being a false alarm and is instead the first stage of hyperventilating. She goes out to the sink, noting the pale color on her face that Stacie was talking about earlier when she looks at her reflection in the mirror and hopes that splashing some water on her face will make her feel less like she's about to have a heart attack and stable enough to think all this news through.

However, this doesn't happen when the swinging door to the bathroom is flung open, unexpectedly scaring the living life out of Beca when she's greeted with a long legged, raging bull with steam blowing out from her nostrils as they lock eyes.

Stacie charges Beca with horns down, grabbing Beca by the shoulders and pushing her into the nearest wall to corner the smaller girl. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?!" she spits; her glare terrifying and Beca can't help but feel herself shrink under it. "Really Beca, what the fuck?! You've been fine this entire night with Chloe, you've been smooth, relaxed and acting like a complete _normal_ person who was also charming. Then, all of a sudden, you go from calm Beca to fucking _lunatic_ Beca in the matter of seconds!"

"I was acting fine earlier because that was before Aubrey straight up told me this little ' _group hang_ ' is in fact a double date and Chloe _fucking_ Beale is the one I'm paired with because turns out, she totally fucking has a thing for me!"

"That's not a shock, Beca!" Stacie exclaims, releasing her firm grip over Beca's shoulders to smack the smaller brunette upside the head more times than necessary, no doubt giving Beca a concussion, which doesn't help her current well being and only makes it worse. "I've been telling you this for how long now?!"

Beca avoids answering this question because she knows Stacie has been claiming Chloe had a thing for her the moment they met the redhead. It's pretty much indented in her brain. "It just doesn't make sense." She slumps her shoulders, defeated. "Chloe is a rare fine and I'm not worth any of her time."

Stacie bats her lashes, unamused at Beca's unintentional rhyme game. "Well Eminem, you better snap yourself out of it, turn it down five _hundred thousand_ notches and end this night on a good note, or I will physically _end_ you."

Stacie's gone before Beca has the chance to even respond to this threat, but she figures that her friend is right, though she's terrified to think of the consequences if failed. Tonight has been hands down the best night of her life, she thinks, and even though it's impossible to process the fact that Chloe sees a future relationship with her, the night doesn't deserve to end so _meh_ , with her clamming up everytime Chloe glances at her.

So, she tries to compose herself as best as she can in the restroom to face Chloe again, knowing the last time they saw each other was more than a little absurd with her chosen action to abruptly leave the scene. Throwing some more water on her face, she dries herself off with a paper towel and heads back out to the bar, palms so sweaty it feels like they're still wet from the faucet and her heart beat thumping so violently she feels it in her throat.

"Beca, hey," Chloe says softly when she catches Beca awkwardly walking up to the booth, her hands caught behind her back and imaginary tail trapped between her legs.

Aubrey gives Beca a sympathetic look, which plain and simple, makes her feel like complete shit because she knows from the brief conversation she caught before leaving to the restroom, Chloe was seconds away from exploding on Aubrey as she thought it was her who caused Beca to act so fidgety after the time spent alone together.

Beca gives an awkwardly shy wave and mentally facepalms herself for doing it.

_Great start, Beca._

Chloe switches positions in the booth so that she's now sitting near the window this time, making the rearranging loads easier and far less sloppier than before. "Are you okay?" she's careful with her words, as if Beca is a fragile, brittle piece of glass that could break if too much force in her voice was projected.

"Yeah," Beca breathes, but it doesn't sound very convincing at best. "I just...I-I thought I was going to get sick, or whatever, but I'm fine now." She waves it off with a nervous chuckle, knowing she is everything but fine right now and is barely holding herself together.

Especially when Chloe reaches out to link their hands together in a gesture meant to be comforting, but all it does is bring prickles to her skin and make whatever it is going inside her head worse.

So, being as subtle as ever, Beca yanks her hand away like she just touched a hot stove and awkwardly laughs it off, because she feels that is all she can do when Chloe is caught looking at her with so much hurt in those icy blue eyes that it physically pains her to do anything else.

"Anyways," Beca drawls, changing the subject in a hurry and avoids Chloe's eyes because if she dares to look one more time, she doesn't think her heart can take it without fully shattering to pieces.

For the most part-except the whole hand holding incident- they fall back into friendly conversation that Beca was able to actually contribute to after getting her mind off of the girl sitting directly next to her, which wasn't an easy task to do. They don't stay much longer than an hour before the alcohol starts to wear down and the group hits their crash, deciding to leave before it gets too late.

Outside of the bar after bidding their goodbyes to Luke, Chloe and Aubrey's Uber is parked out front waiting, ready to take them to the hotel they reserved for the night before driving back to Miami early tomorrow morning to make Chloe's dance rehearsal. There's still an awkward aroma floating around Chloe and Beca as they split apart from Stacie and Aubrey so they can exchange their own separate farewells.

"I had a lot of fun tonight," Chloe is the first to break the awkward tension, stopping right before the backseat door of the car and turning to face Beca. "Like _a lot_ of fun."

"Me too," Beca says through gritted teeth to keep her cool, though it's nothing but the truth.

Well, it _was_ fun up until the part Aubrey and her had their own little conversation involving Chloe, herself and growing feelings from half of the party.

"I know the drive is kind of inconvenient, but I'd love to see you again and do….all this sometime soon, but maybe by ourselves next time?" Chloe's voice is shy as she suggests this and Beca realizes then it's the first time she's ever heard it so fragile and weak, unlike Chloe's naturally bold and confident tone.

"For sure." Beca feels her heartbeat increasing again at the reality that if tonight was considered a date, which she found out not too long ago that it was, this would be the exact time someone would lean in for a goodbye kiss.

Half of her body tells her to just do it and do it with a purpose but the other half-her gut- tells her "fuck that noise" and abort as soon as she can and rule number one she always went by when taking a test or a challenging problem came her way was to always trust your gut.

But all she can do now is endure this inner battle going on inside her head whether or not to kiss this girl.

Chloe must be thinking it too because she's biting at her bottom lip in that distracting, but super adorable way and every so often looks down to Beca's lips, waiting eagerly for the next move to come. By these stolen glances, Beca's heart is beating like a jackhammer and that sick feeling in her stomach is back and stronger than ever.

So, when Chloe makes the first move to lean in, expecting a kiss to be return, Beca dodges it with the effort of the movement coming out smoothly and opting for a kiss to the cheek, but ends up colliding her forehead with Chloe's and by the newly throbbing area on her skull, she decides that her effort to be sly was the biggest mistake she has made tonight.

And actually, the _dumbest_ and _stupidest_ mistake she has ever made in her entire life.

No doubt about it.

" _Ouch_ ," Chloe whines out, gripping at the injured area on her head, but surprisingly, she isn't in the slightest bit upset about it and is actually laughing.

With her ego down the drain and too embarrassed to mirror the sweet laugh coming out from Chloe, Beca also grips at her head, thinking of yet another excuse to explain her foolish actions.

"I think you bobbed when I weaved," Chloe says this through her chuckles and Beca appreciates that Chloe did the honors of stealing the mic before she had the chance to probably say something more embarrassing, only to add to how she already feels.

"Yeah, and I think I have a second head now," Beca murmurs; not only is her ego shot from the shit show tonight brought to her, but also the new pain on her temple.

This night couldn't possibly get any worse.

Why couldn't she of just mutually told Aubrey that "hey, I have feelings for Chloe, too, probably a lot more of them than I can handle at this moment, but everything is _okay_ " and kissed Chloe back like she so desperately wanted to, because _of course_ it's all the fucking truth. She knew there was something there between them the first time she laid eyes on that redhead, but was too insecure and dense to admit it out loud.

But hey, look where that got her.

A confused redhead and a broken skull.

"Let me see." Chloe pulls away Beca's hand that is rubbing the spot where their heads collided and examines the area. "Just a little red, no egg yet," she says and Beca thinks that not sporting a newly grown tumor on her head is the best news she's heard all night.

She's about to say something to go with the news, but Chloe starts to lean in again and drops a lingering kiss right above the bump on her head where there is already a forming bruise and she freezes in place. The initial contact when Chloe's lips touch the top of her head brings a little sting to the area ( _Jesus_ , how hard did they clunk heads?) but the longer Chloe's lips stay, the better it feels, and the better she feels and it kinda feels like she's going to float away due to this placebo sensation.

"All better." Chloe beams when she pulls away, pulling Beca out of her little daze she fell into at the burning spot where Chloe's lips once were. She can't even imagine what her state of well being would've been if they actually kissed. "Hug?" She shrugs her shoulders, holding out her arms.

And yeah, that's something Beca can totally do without messing it up.

Going in for the hug, hooking her arms confidently around the redhead's waist, Beca savors every second of Chloe's strong, secure arms braced around her, the smell of whatever heavenly perfume Chloe wears and the safe feeling she gets when surrounded by such a treasure that Chloe truly is.

"Text me," Chloe mumbles softly into locks of brown while Beca attempts to focus more on not falling asleep in such a warm, comfortable position as her cheek rests in the divot of Chloe's shoulder and neck.

Why couldn't dating be as easy as hugging; not that she was much of a hugger, per say, before she met Chloe and actually, she avoided any form of physical contact like the plague.

But now, after experiencing a hug from Chloe Beale, it has worked it's way up to one of her most favorite things in life.

And if that's not the weirdest thing Beca has ever admitted, she doesn't know what it.

"I'm serious," Chloe says as she detaches away from Beca, a type of look in her eyes Beca does not want to test. "You _better_ text me."

"I will," Beca assures with a laugh, hands held up as a shield from the stern glare Chloe is shooting at her like two burning lasers.

Taking Beca's word for it with a relieved smile; one that's already eagerly anticipating the untyped text message she's set on receiving, "awesome," Chloe chirps, eyes gleaming and smile matching its shine. "Now, wanna help me break up those two?"

Beca follows Chloe's fingers over to where Stacie and Aubrey are seen talking, closely observing the pair as they engage in what looks like a friendly convo.

And by friendly she means _friendly_.

"On it," Beca doesn't waste a second at the chance to sneak away from Chloe and get a head start walking over to the other duo, mostly because she's already made a fool of herself in the last hour and with her track record for tonight, she doesn't need to add to her list.

Not some of her proudest moments, to be honest.

"So, I guess I owe you a kiss, huh?" Beca stumbles up to the pair just in time to hear this slip out from Aubrey's mouth, lips twisted up in a flirty smirk as her arms are crossed above her chest.

"That was the original plan, but I changed my mind on what I want," Stacie replies through her own wide smile and Aubrey furrows her brows, not expecting that as a response and was already puckering up for the kiss she owed. "The kiss sounds amazing, _trust me_ , but your phone number sounds even better. Plus, I’m more of a second date kisser, not a first."

Aubrey's brows unscrunch to shoot up to her hairline, mouth gaping at the impressive line to ask for someone's number and all these expressions are ones that Beca mirrors.

She also rolls her eyes; these grossly, yet weirdly adorable sick human beings were being so damn cute and _fuck_ , if only she had Stacie's courageous self esteem and silk smooth way with words in her flirt game, she'd be golden, and her and Chloe would be interacting in the same position and fashion as Stacie and Aubrey are.

But no, she's too self conscious, cares too much about what people think and is too awkward to even follow through correctly with a gorgeous, perfect girl who happens to _like_ _like_ her and only wanted a kiss goodnight.

And now, she has a welt the size of Jupiter to flaunt off to everyone and show them exactly what she means by being the world's biggest failure when it comes to relationships.

_Dumb, dumb, dumb, Beca!_

_God, you're so incredibly stupid._

_No wonder why you're still single. You push away anyone that tries to get close to you._

_You're going to die alone, probably with a bunch of cats and even then they wouldn't want to live with a pathetic mess like you._

_Ugh!_

Of course, Aubrey types her number into Stacie's phone. Who wouldn't after someone dropped a clever line that smooth to steal some digits? Once her contact is saved, Aubrey hands the phone back and Stacie promises to text the blonde once she gets home. Seeing Chloe's patience running thin as she waits outside of their Uber's car, who is also becoming impatient at how long they both are taking, Aubrey leans in for a farewell hug and receives a kiss to the cheek, something Beca _planned_ on doing until she messed it all up.

Add that to the long list of things she envied about Stacie and the girl's injury free forehead.

A lot of clenching goes on inside Beca's chest as she watches the Uber drive away with Chloe and Aubrey and maybe there's also a little guilt buzzing through her body at how immature she handled things tonight, something she is an expert at.

But what else was she suppose to do?

It wasn't an everyday thing for her to get confirmation that the closest thing to perfect someone would find in a girl happens to have a crush on her and not in the cute, _I wanna be your best friend kinda way,_ but like the kind of crush someone would get on someone else if they were planning on pursuing a relationship with that other being.

And mixing a relationship with Beca doesn't fit whatsoever, let alone a relationship with Chloe, though she really wishes it would. It's like, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself that Chloe liking her was a good thing-a _great_ thing, it never clicked. Kinda like two end pieces to a puzzle set, or seeing a ghost walking your house at night time.

It _terrifies_ her and she doesn't understand why.

Stacie walks up next to Beca, a maniac smile on her stupid smug face that had Aubrey's name all over and Beca is already preparing herself for the storm that's about to come. "Well you _truly_ out did yourself tonight. I would try to lighten the mood and say I've seen worse….but I'd be lying."

Beca grits her teeth and clenches her jaw hearing Stacie start to laugh at something that she doesn't find any humor in whatsoever. She also swats away the incoming hand headed for the bump on her head, not needing to be reminded how she got it in the first place.

"I'm surprised Ginger even wants a second date with you." Stacie snickers, totally not helping the scene.

Beca can't tell if Chloe wanting to see her again after such a pathetic end to a date is a good thing, or a bad thing and she can't think about it right now because she knows Stacie is secretly judging and teasing her all at the same time and she really just needs to be alone, so she can process this whole kaotic night and probably dig herself a hole to lay in and never come out.

So, she starts walking away down the sidewalk from Stacie without a word. Where is she going? No idea, hopefully far away, but at least she will have sometime alone to think.

Maybe find the nearest dock and drown herself; that sounds a Hell of a lot better than ever facing Chloe again after the night she just put the poor girl through and also the smartest.

That is until Stacie yells out through cupped hands, "Luke is taking us home, dummy. So, unless you plan on walking your tiny ass twenty miles back home, I suggest you walk that tiny butt back into the bar!"

And it would've been not too bad if she wasn't so drunk, and the whole twenty miles deal because, _whew_ , talk about the exercise she does not want to take part in this late at night. So, she sulks her body back into the bar, avoiding Stacie's smug smile that hasn't left her face and with her head face down and finger held up high to her best friend, she enters the bar for Luke to take them home.

* * *

" _Hi, stranger, its Chloe...again...for the third time today, I think, which is the most I've ever tried to contact someone, so you should feel very honored. Just trying to figure out why you've been ignoring all my texts and calls because with what I can remember-correct me if I'm wrong- but when we all hung out at the bar together, I could've sworn we hit it off by the looks you were giving me all night. Anyways, if I did happen to do something wrong can you at least, like, tell me, so I could apologize and maybe start over? Because I'd really….really like to see you again._ "

Stacie's heart clenches at the desperation in Chloe's voice when leaving one of the many voicemails on Beca's phone; it seemed like such an unnatural thing to hear from such a confident girl like Chloe who held herself together so strong and sturdy.

It wasn't her initial plan to snoop around in Beca's phone, but she knew Beca was avoiding Chloe like the plague and with her phone going off every five seconds the past couple days, she knew it was Chloe calling once she heard the next set of rings echo through Beca's room when she was making herself a sandwich in the kitchen.

Then she listened to the voicemail- _several_ voicemails Chloe has left these past few days, along with the handful of text messages; the heartbroken and crying face emojis filling up Chloe's grey side of the conversation and couldn't find it in her to stop typing up a response for Beca, having enough of her stubborn best friend's bull shit and to end this pathetic avoidance towards an _actual_ angel who goes by the name of Chloe Beale.

Plus, now being in contact with Aubrey, who is no doubt potential girlfriend material for the long run, she's heard enough of Chloe acting like a heartbroken, walking zombie back in Miami that only seems to be affected worse and worse every time she tries to reach Beca and only gets directed to voicemail. She considers Chloe as a friend now, and no friend should ever be put through this, regardless if it's her _best friend_ causing her other friend so much pain and sadness.

She just wished her best friend would see how bad she is affecting Chloe, but every time Stacie tried to bring up the whole Chloe situation and why her calls weren't being answered, Beca would first, get all fidgety and play the "what? I didn't hear you," card and then would find literally _anything_ to change the subject, which not only is far from healthy communication, but also mentally damaging to Beca when she forces to keep all her emotions locked up inside without voicing them.

Beca emerges from the bathroom connected to her room after taking a shower before Stacie can finish typing out the text message to Chloe she wanted to send. She has one towel wrapped tightly around her body while another towel is ruffling through all her wet hair, but is dropped to the ground at a sight unprepared for.

Catching the cellphone caught between Stacie's fingers, Beca sprints over to the bed, yanks the device out from her hands and loads up all the air into her lungs for the explosion she's about to drop on her nosey roommate.

"Why the _fuck_ do you have my phone?!" Beca barks out invisible white foam from the mouth, but Stacie was already prepared for it and seems unaffected by the harsh raise in volume and intense glare in those steely blues.

"Because you're a fucking _moron,_ Beca!" Stacie shouts, equally as harsh and completely over whatever stunt Beca has been pulling these past few days. "What shit have you been mustering up inside your head that has been causing you to avoid Chloe?! Especially after finding out from Aubrey that she is _super_ into you!"

"Because it's not possible, Stacie," Beca hisses in a far lower tone, but the snap laced over her words makes it evident she's still pissed off beyond measures. "I'm _me_ and Chloe's….Chloe is _**Chloe**_!"

"That makes no sense." Stacie shakes her head with disbelief that Beca is acting like such a child over this. "Why wouldn't you be ecstatic that a girl as hot, sweet and funny as Chloe is trying to pursue something _more_ than friends with you? Chloe is the complete package and could have literally anyone-"

"That's the point, Stacie!" Beca interrupts mid sentence, her voice rising back up to a scary pitch as the veins in her face look like they're seconds away from popping. Stacie admits she has to dodge the flailing hands a few times when the anger makes a more grand appearance. "Why would a girl like Chloe ever want anything to do with someone like me!? _Riddle me that_?!"

Stacie reaches out to pull Beca down by the wrist to sit on the bed beside her, calming the tension-well hoping to calm the conversation. She hates seeing Beca upset and she hates it even more to see Beca so insecure about her image.

But there's only so many times she can tell Beca the she is an amazing person inside and out before losing her breath, but whether Beca wants to believe it or not is up to her and Stacie can't do anything about it but keep trying.

"Because you're funny," she starts, making sure she has full eye contact with her friend. "And smart, and you're extremely good looking and though you never show it, you have a sensitive side and you care about people a lot more than you would like."

Beca grits her teeth through a cringe because hearing compliments about herself always made her feel so uncomfortable. She isn't an insecure type of person, though she does a pretty well job at hiding her self esteem issues through sarcastic remarks and eye rolls, but she never goes out gloating about what an amazing person she is and hearing it from Stacie doesn't make her skin stop from crawling.

And she's never had this much lack of confidence until she met Chloe and found out someone so perfect has an interest in her-someone who is less perfect and far from it.

"I'm...like… _super_ small, moody, not good with expressing my emotions and I'm extremely pasty white-even with a spray tan, you would know."

Stacie face morphs into a small, less stern smile and she laughs at the memory of dragging Beca against her will to go get a spray tan with her and the final product of Beca's skin tone went from ghostly white to albino white. Absolutely no color change and everyone could still basically see through her friend's skin.

"I can't live up to the lifestyle Chloe has. I'm a bartender."

"A bartender that she wants to date, Becs," Stacie is quick to counter.

"Do you think she sick?" Beca asks in full seriousness, maybe that could be the reason Chloe has a thing for her because the medication is fogging up her eyesight. She's hot; that she can admit. She has a great set of eyes and immaculate hair, but does it compare to Chloe's? Not in the slightest.

Stacie is unable to keep in a laugh hearing this, but smacks Beca upside the head, not too hard, but still with enough force to smack some sense into her friend. "Shut up! Chloe _likes_ you! Aubrey has came out and confirmed this for you." It's true, Beca can still hear the words repeating over and over again in her head like a broken record.

"But _why_?" Beca's voice lowers in a fragile tone, face dropping from Stacie's sympathetic jade eyes and to her hands where her fingers are twiddling around each other nervously above the damp towel covering her body. "She can have literally anyone she wants. Why pick me? I'm nothing special, obviously compared to her ex boyfriends."

In comparison to Chloe's exes that were mentioned the night spent at the bar together, Beca's like a pebble on a shelf full of diamonds. Even the people Chloe associates with are rare gems; Megan fox only one out of many. Why would Chloe want to settle for something so cheap and plain instead of a flashy, shimmering piece that completely fits more her type of style?

"You know that's a question only she can answer for you if given the chance, Becs."

Beca cringes weakly, a new weight of guilt taking over and makes her feel like an asshole for yelling at Stacie and avoiding Chloe when she did absolutely nothing wrong, but avoiding her because she did everything right. What kind of reverse psychology bullshit is that? "I'm sorry."

"I know," Stacie replies with a sympathetic grin, pulling the smaller girl into a half hug, but swatting Beca away because she's still wet from her shower. "Now please, fix this with Chloe before the weekend. You two are great for each other, whether you like it or not, and I really need you two to start dating so I can plan more double dates."

"You and Aubrey doing good?" Beca asks, changing the subject. She's been so busy thinking about pitying herself that she hasn't even gotten around to ask what is happening in Stacie's life like a good friend does.Talk about selfish, _Jesus_.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I honestly think she's the one, Becs," Stacie says as the giddiness takes over her face, body and words.

Beca can admit she as well never thought these words would ever be caught coming out of Stacie's mouth, knowing how high of standards the girl has and how much she loves sex. Guess it only takes one girl to come into someone's life, blur out everything they use to believe and change everything for the better.

Either way, Beca is glad to see Stacie so happy (like school girl happy) whether it's in the way Stacie talks about Aubrey, or how she has been carrying herself around lately.

Beca smiles a real smile as she watches Stacie skip out of her room, leaving her clad in only a towel from her shower with a red and blue pill placed side to side in her palm, waiting for her to choose between the two.

Blue, she continues to ignore Chloe for the slight chance the redhead will just give up and stop trying to contact her and she can continue being a boring bartender with her best friend and her life can continue going on like normal.

Or the red, which is that she'll pull her head out of her ass, realize that Chloe is in fact, a _hundred percent_ into her and could possibly be a good thing going if she were to admit it to herself and see how a relationship with Chloe would unfold.

After choosing the red pill and cursing herself that she's the world's biggest dick head, she reads the typed message Stacie was in the process of sending and barely was able to get a few words in and erases it. Deciding that she doesn't want to text Chloe an apology, she dials up the redhead's number, preparing a speech inside her head she can spill the moment she hears Chloe voice through the other line.

The phone rings for an awfully long time, almost to the point where Beca thinks she going to catch Chloe's voicemail, which wouldn't surprise her at all because it's what she's been giving to Chloe every time her phone rang and the redhead's name popped up on her screen.

It only made sense for her to have a taste of her own medicine for the stunt she has been pulling. About ready to hang up and call back later, a sweet voice answers the phone with a teasing,

" _Well well well, look who decided to check their messages, unless this isn't Beca calling me since she made it pretty obvious she wanted no form of contact with me."_

And Beca feels even worse than how she already felt about ignoring Chloe all this time and completely forgets her planned out apology she created up in her head at the hint of hurt in Chloe's voice; a hurt and shake in voice that _she_ caused.

" _I assume this is you calling me to explain what I might've done to receive your voicemail as many times as I did and I'm here ready to fix it-"_

"This is me calling to ask you on a date," Beca blurts, word vomit, one hundred percent as she cuts off Chloe's sentence unintentionally and unable to stop them from flying out of her mouth.

There's only a buzzing silence flooding both lines and Beca is starting to really regret this entire phone call and her stupid loud mouth that _clearly_ has no filter with gradually easing into asking somebody a question, especially a _big_ question like asking someone out on a date.

Beca pulls the phone from her ear and checks her screen, making sure Chloe didn't hang up on her with all the silence and lack of a response she is receiving from Chloe.

The least Chloe can do is reject her and they can move on from it, instead of the painful, awkward silence that's becoming unbearable to add the suspense and anticipation while Beca chews down to the nubs on her fingernails as she waits for any hint of a response. .

" _What_?" Chloe's voice finally speaks up.

Relieved to hear Chloe's voice and also figuring that the offer is already out in the open to see, "Tomorrow night is my performance at Blackbird and if you're not busy, I'd really love for you to be my date, like _date date_. Luke has one of his buddies coming down who works for some small record label and it'd be a lot less nerve racking with you there."

Beca doesn't mean for her voice to come out so desperate, but she really wants to make this right between her and Chloe. She's the first to raise her hand up high and admit she's been acting like a child and Chloe deserves better than that by a long shot. Also, she's more than a little nervous about her gig tomorrow, knowing it's the deciding factor that determines her entire future.

No big deal.

"I'll make you the best damn whiskey sour in the books?" she adds this bribe in when Chloe makes no effort in accepting or declining the date offer and she's ecstatic when she finally hears a familiar laugh echo through the other line.

" _No need to twist my arm, I'd love to be your date. Your date date,"_ Chloe giggles at Beca's echo, her laugh sounding more herself and not so broken and weak.

At the acceptance, Beca lifts a triumphing arm in the air, swallowing down the eager schoolgirl squeal that is fighting its way to sneak out. "Sweet," she answers cooly, keeping her badass image untouched.

Maybe she's still on the edge about the date and not all her questions have been answered as to why Chloe would want something with her, but what she does know is that she shouldn't toss a good thing going because of her lack of confidence getting in the way.

This date could be a completely awful experience and prove her theory right as to why her and Chloe are just two different people who should never be paired together, romantically, that is, but it could also be the start of something _amazing._

And instead of living under a pile of "what ifs" like she did ninety percent of her life, just because it was easier, she decides that it's time to sack up, take a chance and make things right because she knows if she doesn't, she'll regret it for the rest of her life.

* * *

Beca meets Chloe out front of Blackbird at the designated time they agreed to meet, figuring she wanted to walk in together since it has been declared last night that this is in fact, a date date.

Also, she wanted to make it clear to everyone around that Chloe is with _her_ tonight, and maybe brag a little.

Or a lot.

But whatever.

When dressing herself for tonight, she opted for help from Stacie when picking and choosing an outfit for date number two; a date that she's aware of being a date and also, a date she wanted to do right tonight.

Settling on her nicest pair of black jeggings, a pair of black heeled boots that she didn't even know were in her closet and were still in the box from the store she bought them at and a sleeveless, collared, black dress up shirt with buttons down the middle, Stacie finished her off with applying perfectly loose, bouncing curls to her hair and easing it up on the layers of eyeliner to complete the look for tonight.

It's a lot flashier than her usual daily wardrobe choices, which consists of a different color flannel and ripped skinny jeans, but it suits her well- _really_ well, and she has to redeem herself from the multiple things she has done the past couple days towards Chloe that she's not proud of whatsoever.

At least Stacie allowed her outfit to stick to her true shade of black instead of something bright like Stacie planned on forcing her into, so there's that.

Dressed and ready to impress, Beca is waiting for a white, classy BMW to pull up into the bar's parking lot outside of the bar; Chloe gave her the description of her car last night when they settled on a time to meet, which was two hours before the time Beca is scheduled to perform. She knew tonight was a big night for her, music wise, but she also wanted to spend a little extra time with just Chloe and Chloe only, now that she has a grip of herself and is destined to make things right between them.

The only way to do that was to have some one on one conversations and say everything there was on her chest bothering her and look for the answers from Chloe.

A fancy white car catches her attention at a nearby stoplight and as she follows it into the parking lot, it fits the exact profile Chloe gave her of the car she has been waiting for, which is extremely expensive, super nice, and totally something she could see Chloe driving.

Cause you know, Miami Heat dancer and all that jazz-though after talking with Chloe, she has discovered that cheerleaders in the NBA don't get paid that much. Per game it's usually a hundred or two; Chloe gets two hundred because their dancing squad is one of the most popular in basketball when it comes to off court performances, probably because they're all really attractive.

She waits patiently for Chloe by the trunk of the car, already seeing the mane of red hair through the back window scavenging for all her supplies in the passenger seat. When the door finally opens, Beca officially swears that Chloe gets more and more beautiful each time she sees her.

Wearing a mid thigh, long sleeve black lace cocktail hour dress, along with a pair of brand new matching wedges, hair crimped down in a wavy flow casting over toned shoulders and dark make up bordering those icy blue orbits to complete the illusion that Beca is staring at a dream like mirage, Chloe closes their door behind her, flaunting her full outfit that edges Beca into cardiac arrest with all those curves that should be considered a crime.

Admittedly, she doesn't even care that she is totally checking out everything on Chloe's body in the most blatant way possible and probably has drool dripping out the corners of her mouth as she gapes at the golden skin, leg muscles, and classy amount of cleavage shown in the dress that is doing wonders for Chloe's body and is imagining all the rest without feeling creepy about it.

" _Wow_ ," Beca breaths as she tries to study every inch of perfection on this woman, but she doesn't think it's possible because there's so much of it on Chloe's body that it's intimidating being around such a masterpiece. "You look… _wow_ ," she settles, unable to pinpoint just one word that expresses just how jaw dropping Chloe looks.

If she thought that tonight she outdid herself profile wise, she can forget about that because she looks like a complete homeless person when standing next to Chloe.

"Is Beca Mitchell speechless? Is that what's happening?" Chloe teases with a shining half smile and a gleaming glint in her eyes while catching the lack of words and lingering eyes castes over her body.

Beca rolls her eyes when fighting to lift them off of Chloe's hips and back up to icy blues, a smirk peaking out at the corners of her lips because so what if she is speechless and also not even trying to disguise her wondering eyes over the image standing in front of her. Chloe is an anomaly not from this planet and would be a straight _disgrace_  not to admire every inch on such a beautiful treasure while it's in eyesight.

"Shut up." Boldly and flying on autopilot, Beca leans in to place a lingering kiss to Chloe's cheek, surprising herself as well as Chloe when doing so.

Thank God she found some sort of smooth game under her flooding poisonous thoughts telling her she's way out of Chloe's league and shouldn't even be at an arm's reach of such a perfect woman, kinda like a fancy museum with a piece of artwork out on display.

 _Okay, Mitchell_ , _I see you._ "Come on," she orders with a praising smile at the pure look of shock and visible blush rising to Chloe's cheek, especially right where she kissed.

She leads Chloe into the bar, but not without connecting their hands as they walked side by side, lacing their fingers together without any hesitation whatsoever, which is a plus already from their first date together and also a lot safer (so far so good). Chloe even seemed taken back by how _she_ has been the one to initiate everything thus far; the kiss on the cheek, the holding hands.

The bravery for sure is working in her favor.

Maybe she was getting the hang of this whole physical contact thing with Chloe and stopped comparing every little thing different it was about them and just went with the flow of the stream, see how things turned out and let fate take them by the hand and lead them to whatever was destined.

In the bar, only slightly busier than the previous nights but it's also a Friday night, so wait a couple hours and ask what the capacity is then, Beca waves to Stacie who is working tonight; Chloe does the same and all they're returned with is a teasing wink and a very dirty hand gesture in the shape of a "v" around Stacie's mouth and her tongue sticking out, which so should've been expected because it was Stacie _freaking_ Conrad who they are talking to.

Weird how Aubrey, an inspired uptight, lawyer has a thing for someone so free with her words (though equally as smart) and teases on a daily basis that she has suffered from lockjaw because at how much " _action_ " she gets.

But Beca guesses, it's also similar to her and Chloe, in a way; bartender and hot Miami heat dancer whose two worlds collided with each other. Perhaps that saying, " _opposites attract_ " is a real fucking thing, go figure.

Spotting out a free booth in the bar that is progressively getting busier by the second, Beca, with Chloe in tow and fingers still intact with each other, take a seat across from opposite sides of the booth and Beca yells out to Stacie to start making them two whiskey sours, along with two glasses of ice water to start before they order food.

In an impressive amount of time, Stacie wanders up to their table with a tray of "treats" consisting of their two whiskey sours, glasses of water and two shots of tequila that Beca didn't order, but can admit the extra bit of alcohol will take some of the nerves off her so she could actually enjoy tonight and not drown under the irritating voice in her head that constantly reminds her that she isn't good enough for Chloe.

She's willing to do (or drink) whatever it takes to get that voice out of her head because she for one is not going to mess up yet another possible good thing going for her like she has done so many times in the past.

That's old Beca, and she's done with her, taking out the trash to unbox a new and improved Beca.

Once Stacie leaves with a salacious wink and the few inevitable sexual innuendo comments about hers and Chloe's date, they clink their individual shot glasses to a non verbal cheers after licking some salt off their palm, savoring the burn of the liquid and immediately rush in for the limes Stacie chopped up for them, cooling the tequila with the sour.

"So," Beca starts through a wheeze, needing to get something of her chest, but not too sure how to do it. At least now she has tequila in the blood stream to guide her words. Fumbling around with possible ways to go about this conversation as Chloe patiently waits for what it is she has to say, Beca gets a hold of a sentence that _sounded_ good in her head, but so totally wasn't once it left her mouth. "Why do you even want to date me?"

Chloe knits her brows together, unsure of what Beca meant. "Pardon?"

Figuring she might as well go with this route since it's already out for show, "why me?" Beca repeats before adding so more clarification to what she trying to say. "Like, you can have _anybody_...but you chose me...and I'm just trying to figure out _why?_ "

"Beca, where is all this coming from?" Chloe deadpans, her stare intimidating and it makes Beca feel like maybe it sounded a lot crazier than what she was hoping for. Also maybe not the smartest way to go about this conversation. "Are you some weirdo who relies on zodiac compatibility to pick and choose your relationships? When is your birthday?"

Alright, this is way out of the blue. "November 5?" Beca says this like a question, more than a little confused by the randomness and quick turn in subjects.

Chloe thinks for a second, index finger tapping her chin in deep thought until it clicks to her like a lightbulb flashing on inside her head. "Ah, I see. My birthday is July 22nd, which means I'm a Cancer, also a water sign. You, a Scorpio, are also a water sign, which basically means that we rely heavily on stability in our lives, also have tremendously strong emotions-"

"No no!" Beca quickly cuts off Chloe and the girl's extra emphasis to move her hands around as she explains with a laugh. She hears enough of that zodiac shit from Stacie and doesn't agree with it whatsoever. Going about her words this time with extra clarification, "what I'm trying to say is that you're talented, beautiful, successful and just amazing all around."

"And?" Chloe shrugs her shoulders, unfazed while Beca hangs her mouth open, silence only coming out. "Because to me it just sounds like you're talking about yourself."

"W-what?" Beca stutters out. Okay, Chloe has definitely lost her mind and she hasn't even put a big enough dent into her drink to even be considered the littlest bit tipsy to speak such nonsense.

Chloe reaches out to take Beca's hand in hers over the table. Then she opens her mouth and points to her bottom set of teeth. Closing her mouth when she knows Beca has gotten a good look, though she doesn't know why Chloe is showing her the inside of her mouth inside a bar, "got my braces taken off early for a commercial my mom signed me up for when I was a kid."

Great, now Chloe is a former actress who took part in commercials. What's next? She going to say that running for president is in her future?

"Okay?" Beca still doesn't understand what Chloe is trying to prove here. Maybe some teeth are a little bit crooked, but other than that, Chloe's teeth are still a set of chompers to die for.

Chloe lifts up one of Beca's fingers to trace a visible scar on her forehead before placing it back on the table. "Ran into a table when I was younger, left a gnarly scar and luckily nothing else. People called me Harry Potter's sister the entire duration of middle school."

Out of all things said tonight so far, this one for sure is the one that makes the less sense because being called Harry Potter's sister is like the _greatest_ compliment ever. Plus, so what if Chloe has like... _two_ crooked teeth and a scar on her forehead that's really only noticeable in the light. Even with these two small things, Chloe is still the closest thing to perfect she's ever going to find.

"I know you're thinking that I'm some sort of ideal, perfect girl."

Welp. Apparently Chloe is _also_ a mind reader, go figure. Beca shouldn't have expected anything less.

"But I'm not. I'm so far from perfect that the word sounds like a foreign language to me. Everyone I ever tried to date thought this way too, which is why it never worked out because they put me on some sort of pedestal I couldn't simply live up to."

Now Beca feels like an ass again. It's not that she intended on putting so much pressure on Chloe and gave her unrealistic expectations to live by. It was mostly because Chloe and her weren't the types of people to match.

Swipe right? Yeah no. More like swipe left a few dozen times because their bios just **do not** match.

And also maybe because Beca couldn't even see herself, a bartender, with a girl like Chloe even if she were to dream it.

"I bite my nails sometimes when I get nervous, I cry a lot for both happy and sad moments and I'm deathly allergic to peanuts."

"Those are just habits," Beca grumbles under her breath, still seeing Chloe as this ideal woman. However, the peanut allergy is a tough one to explain.

"You think a 'perfect person' would have bad habits? Perfect means _perfect_ , nothing is wrong with them, which is obviously something that immediately counts me out of the running, " Chloe is quick to counter and it's a good enough reason to stump Beca, preventing her from saying anything else negative.

"I like you a lot, Beca Mitchell. I like your height, I like how you wear so much eyeliner, I like all your tattoos, well the ones I can see that is." Chloe rotates Beca's hand so it's facing upwards on the table and with her thumb, she traces the outline of the earphone tattoo on Beca's wrist. "I like your piercings and I like your beautiful singing voice and your regular voice. I like that you're a bartender who apparently makes _sick beats,_ I guess I'll find out tonight and I like everything else there is about you."

Beca feels her heart swell at every compliment and maybe it's because she finally believes all them, even though she's heard this all come from her mom and Stacie, but it's Chloe and her dripping sincerity while saying all this, not daring to break eye contact that makes Beca start to believe that okay, maybe she isn't as much of a failure as she thought she was.

"And I hope you like me too?" Chloe looks at Beca sideways like a confused puppy dog, hope laced in her eyes while waiting for a response and seriously to answer this, liking Chloe is just an understatement.

"Oh I like you," Beca clarifies with not even a flinch in her voice and loves the way Chloe's eyes light up with relief and the corners of her mouth twist up into the biggest smile she has seen thus far. "I don't know. You give me all these weird, tingly feelings in my tummy and my ears get really hot." Like clockwork after admitting it out loud, she feels all the blood leave everywhere else in her body and rush to her cheeks all at the same time, targeting the tips of her ears.

They share a genuine laugh at this descriptive explanation; Beca has never been really good at admitting her emotions in a normal way, but what she said is all the truth. Chloe does things to her that no one has ever done and though it's fucking scary as shit, it's also the best feeling in the world.

"Well at least I'm not the only one who feels all these things," is Chloe's cheeky reply as she slides her hand into Beca's palm before roting their hands back to normal and intertwining their fingers together. "Just promise me one thing?" Beca nods firmly at Chloe; one thing she has lived by is to never break a promise after she experienced the aching heartbreak when her dad broke his own promise and left when he said he'd never leave her. "Never change how you act to impress me, because I can fully admit I'm so far over the moon with the _real_ you already that it's kind of terrifying."

Beca throws her head back with a laugh, mostly because she has been experiencing mutual feelings as well regarding her strong attraction towards Chloe. She even googled one day during work if it was normal to feel nausea every time she saw a pretty girl who she may or may not like, but sick in the good way.

"I promise," she declares, rubbing her thumb softly over the back of Chloe's hand and soaking in the comfortable feeling she gets while doing so.

They steer off the touchy topic and land in a more friendly, casual conversations to surround themselves with. Chloe allows Beca to do most of the talking about her music, work, and even some of her personal life that she has not shared with anyone other than Stacie and it's then Beca realizes what a great listener Chloe is and how safe she feels while talking about such an important part of her life with someone else.

It's probably due to the fact Chloe is looking at her like she's the only person left in the world and she can tell Chloe can recite every word she just said if needing to, knowing how intrigued on the topic of Beca's music she is, which doesn't help Beca's butterflies situation one bit and floods out some more stuff that she's kept locked inside for so long, all the way to the point where she wishes she'd just shut up and let Chloe have a chance to talk.

But Chloe doesn't mind; it's written all over her expressions and the tiny questions she asks every now and then that relaxes Beca and she continues sharing more with this wonderful woman.

The two hours prior to Beca's performance flies by in what feels like minutes as they got lost in each other's words until Luke and Stacie had to reel them out of their own little world and back out to reality with the ten minute mark before Beca takes the stage and hopefully (praying) she does a halfway decent job to possibly have a career in the music industry.

"See the guy with all the tattoos and fohawk?" Luke points over in the general direction to the guy he is describing sitting at the farest booth in the bar, face glued to his cellphone and Beca catches him like a sore thumb in the heavy crowd that has appeared out of nowhere since she was too busy focusing on Chloe's face and not the audience she suddenly now has for her set. "That's the guy who works for that label I was telling you about. Impress him, and you're golden, Becky."

Beca gulps nervously; the guy looks very abstract, a little bit " _hipsterish_ " with his rolled up jeans, black squared glasses and gelled hair do, and also someone who'd she'd expect working at a tattoo parlor with all the sleeves and chest tattoos she can catch under his v-neck t shirt.

"You'll be amazing my little one," Stacie adds when the wave of terror washes over Beca's face, wasting no time before enveloping the smaller girl into a tight hug, so tight it's hard for Beca to breathe, let alone freak out over the fact this night just got a whole Hell of a lot more real. "Your music is something any label would be lucky to have."

Beca nods her head and returns the hug, savoring Stacie's smell which makes her feel more positive about her set and less nervous, but not all the way to where she isn't still shaking in her boots unnoticeably.

Luke and Stacie give their good friend reassurance one at a time before they head back over to the bar and begin to take care of the line of customers asking for drinks before they all dance the alcohol away.

"You ready?" Chloe stands up next to Beca, bumping the smaller girl's frame lightly with her hip and breaking Beca out of her current trance of the DJ booth.

Beca exhales shakily; she's been trying to prepare herself all week for this night and though she is more excited than anything to be given the chance to play her own handmade music for a bunch of people, the fact that she is playing for _a bunch of people_ for the first time ever is equally as nerve racking the closer time gets to her performance.

Not finding the words fast enough for a reply, Chloe is quick to notice the change in behavior and snakes her hand through Beca's, twisting them around so they're now face to face. Curving up a smaller size smile, "before every game or event I have to dance in front of a crowd, I sing 'we've got the whole world in our hands.' Do you know the song?"

Beca nods her head. Hell yeah she knows the song, mostly because for a first grade recital, her entire class had to sing the song, plus, perform stupid hand motions as dance moves while every single parent in the audience recorded it. That was the first time she finally discovered her signature eye roll with being thrown obnoxious kissy faces from the parents and teachers and loved every bit of it.

She can though only imagine how insanely cute it would be to hear Chloe, a walking ball of sunshine, sing such a random, child's tune before a performance. How fucking adorable does that sound?

"I don't sing the song out loud, everyone would think I'm crazy for singing a kid's song when I'm an adult, wearing not the most appropriate outfit and about to moves my hips in the least conservative way, but it makes me feel good because as you may not know about me, I get _intense_ stage fright."

"No way." Beca shakes her head incredulously, finally able to mirror a tighter lip smile compared to Chloe's but at least it's something.

This is almost hard to believe; Chloe being the shy type of performer who gets nervous in front of crowds. Though she has only seen one of Chloe's dance routines at the basketball game, she could already tell the girl is a natural at it.

"Yes _way_ ," Chloe informs, head nodding. "I'm not nearly as bad as Aubrey-she pukes… like projectile vomit when stressed and in front of big crowds."

Beca scrunches her nose, but also can't help but to find it kind of hilarious. However, she really prays karma won't bite her in the ass because she can already feel her basket of fries from dinner and shot of tequila coming back up north in her throat as the nerves bubble uneasily in her stomach.

"But I do get nervous and it's normal. Just tonight, if you get nervous, or forget what button to push, or what to say next, look at me here and I'll try my damn hardest to help you through it because I think of happy things to overcome my stage fright and you Beca Mitchell, only a week and three days in, make me the happiest I've been in a very long time, and to give my thanks, I want to help you through it."

Beca feels the burn in her cheeks from the size smile she has been sporting for a while now, overwhelmed by the extra set of emotions Chloe has just dumped over her head. "Okay," Beca says weakly, but her insides are glowing in a way that makes it feel like she is invincible and can do anything there is to do in the world.

And also maybe because Chloe hasn't let go of her hand since who knows when and with the touch, Beca feels safe and secure and really doesn't want to let go when she hears Luke announcing her name from the booth.

Gesturing her head over to the empty stage, "Go get em, tiger," Chloe orders with a wink above a blinding smile, only making it harder for Beca to leave.

"Pet names already?" Beca covers her snappiness over the moment with an eye roll and a guarding smirk, snatching her hand back away from Chloe and keeps the sadness at bay with the sudden breeze and lack of contact.

"Wow me tonight with your music and there's more where that comes from."

Beca is about to protest-even though she can imagine pet names coming from Chloe sounds truly amazing- but she's unable to get the words out in time before Chloe leans in to place a kiss just at the very corner of her mouth and it's enough to make her forget her own damn name and light her entire body on fire.

Hearing her cue before she can even process a thought, she straightens out her shirt even though it wasn't necessary and turns to the booth. Her heart is racing a mile a minute knowing that it's now or never as she weaves her way through the crowd with her head held low, chin basically indented into her chest.

There's a brief moment when she sets herself up at the turntables, cueing all the mixes she planned for tonight and awkwardly giving a short introduction of who she is and receives a room full of guppy expressions staring back at her.

And she's about to freak out, forget how to work this and that, say something stupid or do something worse, but then she remembers who's there tonight that will help her through all the struggles and when she looks back at the booth to a wide smiling redhead, right where Chloe promised she'd be, everything starts to click and she shakes off all her nerves to do the damn thing.

Leaving everything there is on the table and not giving a damn about anything else other than her music and the one girl who she never would've thought stood a chance with.

* * *

After tearing off the headphones and setting up a playlist for the rest of the night, Beca leaves the booth on a crazy type of high, winded and sweaty, living up to everyone's expectations and blowing the roof off the place with her music as the heavy crowd dances away all the alcohol from their system and are having the times of their lives because of her.

She also engages in a conversation with Mr. Fohawk man who happens to be blown away by the way she handled a crowd and her talented ear shown in the mixes she played tonight, swearing her that he'd get her name out around Residual Heat and soon goes to exchange emails with her.

After promising to stay in contact regarding her plans music wise, he leaves the bar, as well as a tiny DJ who feels like she can physically explode with the amount of happiness swelling every internal organ in her body.

During her little moment to try and compose herself before she ended up passing out, Chloe comes to mind as she scouts the busy bar for literally the only redhead here tonight, hoping to find her in the crowd so she can share her excitement with someone else before her body can't take it anymore.

Although her main concern is finding Chloe, she stops by the bar to share a little bit of her happiness with Luke and Stacie who give her the world's loudest cheer and two types of hugs that almost squeeze her eyeballs out.

Those aren't the only congratulations she gets when weaving her way in between the crowd and through the familiar, dancing, sweaty people she has seen before when she was bartending and all overwhelmed her with compliments about tonight's performance. Appreciating all the sweet words from her peers about her music, one priority takes over and that priority happens to be finding Chloe.

After scanning the area, her eyes land on the most secluded part of the bar in the back and like an angel standing under a spotlight, with a inviting, megawatt smile and curling fingers to wave, she teleports from where she is to the redhead until it's her lips pressed against Chloe's in a hungry way.

She doesn't really know what urged her to kiss Chloe before even a greeting and once her actions connected with brain, there is a brief second of pure panic at the realization she just forced herself upon this girl without so much of a warning and is moving to break apart the kiss, but her panic starts to subside when she feels Chloe's lips move in sequence with her own, sweet and slow, yet firm and passionate, the perfect mixture for a brain melting kiss.

The hurricane of emotions and feelings are overwhelming, to say the least, when the softness and warmth brought by Chloe's lips touch hers for the first time. She tests the waters until she knows it's safe to bold her actions with a swift swipe of her tongue against Chloe bottom lip and happily obliges to repeat the motion when granted access to taste the familiar _zing_ of sour from a lemon and whiskey layering Chloe's tongue.

Despite wanting this moment to last forever; her lips cemented to Chloe's as they kiss the living life out of each other while hands roam over new places on one another's body, Beca's the first to pause the kiss, half because she actually came over here to talk to Chloe and the other half is because the lack of oxygen was starting to become a real issue when she felt her lungs clenching inside her chest.

Sharing breathless pants across each other's lips, "what was that for?" Chloe's voice comes out gravelly and raspy from the breaktaking kiss that even Beca had no idea she had it in her, but is glad she found it because that kiss was something else that words can't even explain.

Also, this kiss ended safely compared to the first time they tried and she didn't have a bump on her forehead to show off to the world this time, which all around is the biggest plus.

Leaning her forehead against Chloe's and trying not to make the shuddering on her body too visible when nails twist at the back of her neck under her hair in a motion that raises goosebumps to her skin. "I had a good night and wanted a good night kiss," she whispers, unable to project her voice any louder due to being equally as winded.

"Oh? So, are you planning on just a one and done type of thing? Because after a performance like that there should be at least _some_ sort of celebration." There's a teasing hint to Chloe's choice of words and the smug smirk sported on her face is almost strong enough for Beca to want to kiss it right off.

"You didn't let me get to the point where I ask you to come home with me," Beca cleverly returns with and can't help but praise herself at the gape in Chloe's mouth with the line she just dropped.

Wow, Beca has stepped her game up tremendously since their last encounter. Kudos for her.

"Only if you would want to," she quickly adds when Chloe doesn't respond, panicking that maybe she overstepped her boundaries.

An amused grin does all the talking as it graces over Chloe's features and Beca knows with this it's the unspoken answer she has been waiting for since the first day she laid eyes on this woman.

She glances around the bar for a moment to fall over a proud looking Stacie raising two thumbs up in her direction, knowing she's about to get hit with a string of merciless comments when they make it home because there's no way Stacie didn't just witness the kiss she just shared with Chloe at a first row level.

Especially when Stacie starts basically gyrating her hips into the bar's tabletop without a shame towards everyone's virgin eyes around the island, silently faking to moan while Beca watches disgusted from the distance.

She can't even be upset with Stacie for embarrassing her in public, though she doesn't think anything could possibly crash the high she's on right now no matter how bad it was.

That's probably why she only shakes Stacie off with a laugh, unnoticeably flipping her off behind Chloe's back before returning her attention back to the redhead, blaming the explicit amount of happiness streaming through her veins for the lack of a fight.

"So is that a yes?" Beca already knows the answer if by the way Chloe is looking at her right now and how there's barely a sliver of blue left in the girl's eyes is anything to go by.

Chloe chews on her bottom lip innocently and Beca finds it impossible to remove her eyes off the area. "As if I'd be dumb enough to pass up the opportunity to get to kiss you again, which by the way, is so much better than clunking heads with you."

The teasing in Chloe's voice under that devilish smirk of hers is impossible to miss and although Beca is entirely focused on other things; a pair of the most kissable lips to be exact, she still manages to sneak in a heavy eye roll as she closes the remaining distance separating her lips from Chloe's.

She knows she kinda swore off using the word earlier and avoids trying to be cheesy in every way possible, but kissing Chloe is like squeezing into the right pair of shoes, as if her lips were made and sculpted into something that fit like a puzzle piece with Chloe's and each pair were destined to be connected together perfectly.

Chloe may not be perfect, and neither is Beca, but kissing Chloe is _perfect_ and no one can tell her otherwise.

* * *

Morning comes around and Beca never thought it was possible to experience the feeling of being on cloud nine. Sure, she knows the warm tingling euphoria after a great night, but this, waking up to Chloe in her bed is beyond something she has ever felt before.

Also, adding being naked into the equation brings out its own blissful mix to her buzzing emotions as she admires every inch and ripple of skin and muscles under the silky black sheets placed over her bed and body.

She angles her head with a fist to keep her in place as she turns her body to the side, getting a better image of the peacefully sleeping redhead sprawled out on the other side of the bed, snoring lightly with her mouth just barely peeked open.

Beca doesn't know how long she stares at Chloe, studying everything there is about the girl and trying to figure out how the Hell did she become so damn lucky.

She's already said it before, but she'll saying it again, Chloe is a living piece of artwork. Everything about Chloe is gold and everything she touches turns to gold as well, including Beca, now that she feels the best she's ever felt in her life.

It might've taken a lot longer to realize this, but she has finally came to conclusion that nothing is sexier than someone who wants you just as much as you want them.

"Stop staring," Chloe mumbles into the pillow, peeking one eye open when she hears Beca lowly starting to chuckle and tries to weakly seat Beca's face away to prevent her from staring. Her voice is layered with a deeper, raspy tone compared to her usual upbeat, chipper tone and Beca concludes that it's no doubt the cutest yet sexiest sound she's ever heard in her life and wouldn't mind hearing it a lot more often.

"Pinch me I think I'm dreaming right now." Beca yelps in pain, unprepared for Chloe to sneak a hand up around her rib cage, down to her butt and to place a sharp pinch to the flesh. "Hey!"

Innocent as ever, Chloe bats her lashes, smile brighter than the sun outside of Beca's window. "What?"

"You suck," Beca mumbles under her breath, pointedly directing this comment to the culprit's hand that is still palming her ass.

Chloe twists a smile that isn't in the slightest bit regretting her decision while she starts to gradually close her one eye back shut. Eyes fully closed, Beca takes the chance then to lean down to feather an unannounced kiss to Chloe's quirked lips, half because she couldn't resist not waking up to something this beautiful and not try to steal as many kisses as she can and half because she needed to double check that Chloe is actually in her bed right now and she wasn't dreaming this whole thing up.

Even though she's no doubt sporting a red mark on her right buttcheek, no thanks to the devil herself.

Just as Beca pulls her head back to soak in all the beauty of this girl some more, Chloe slides the same hand that was covering her butt up to the back of her neck, yanking her face back down to kiss her thoroughly this time, needing more and demanding more, which Beca is happy to reciprocate.

They allow the kiss to grow more heated by the momentum of their lips and the stolen nips each one of them takes and is usually rewarded with a breathy moan of some sort, which is then what causes Chloe to rotate Beca so that her back is pressed against the mattress facing up and Chloe's hovering above, still engaging in the liplock without any breakage between their newly swollen lips.

Beca uses the new position and emptiness in her hands to caress the bare of Chloe's back, tracing along the smooth skin and over the two defined ripples of dimples at the redhead's lower back, then back up to repeat the same motion over every muscle she can scavenge with her touch.

Heat spreading all over her body now becoming an issue, especially down in the southern regions and tight pinch in her lower gut, Beca sneaks her mouth away to pepper a string of kisses along Chloe's jaw bone, loving the vibration of Chloe's body laying on top as she giggles sweetly at the action and stops short when her lips make it to the center of Chloe's throat.

Opening her eyes, they nearly bulged from her head when she's face to face with the darkest purple and black, largest hickey she has ever seen before sported on Chloe's neck.

She covers her mouth with one of her hands in shock, but underneath she is so totally curving the proudest smile in the books at realization that she was the one to give Chloe such a nasty bruise on her neck due to being at a loss of control and driven by her hormones the previous night.

"Oh I saw." Chloe seems unfazed by the surprised reaction and is only smiling down at Beca, as if she already knows she has the state of Texas as a hickey on her neck. "I also saw the other ones on my inner thigh when I woke up to pee during the middle of the night."

Beca takes her finger to poke the bruise on Chloe's neck to see if the darkness has any pain with it like how it looks. She also measures with her tips of her fingers which ends up being at least a quarter and a half in size.

" _Damn_ ," she breathes through a smug smile, looking at the mark like one of those creepy Halloween makeup injuries, unable to believe that Chloe would allow her to suck the blood from her neck for so long without knowing the consequences of a brutal bruise the next morning. "This one is gnarly."

"Oh you haven't seen the ones on my chest." At this, Chloe sits up straighter, granting a clear view of her bare chest for Beca to take a gander and sitting there in all their glory is not only one, but two similar looking hickeys, one at the bottom of Chloe's collar bone and the other right on the meat of Chloe's left breast.

"So I see you're not complaining." Beca studies after admiring her proud work art drawn all over Chloe's skin, also admiring Chloe's boobs now that they're right in front of her face; not that she is complaining one bit about it. "Does that mean last night was good for you?"

Chloe's hums quietly, leaning in to ghost a kiss over Beca's smirk. "Although you're helping me cover this monster of a hickey on my neck before the Heat's next game on Tuesday if it doesn't go away because I'll in front of hundreds, but other than that, last night was the best I ever had."

Beca nods her head; that's a fair enough deal. "Say it again," she murmurs firm and strict, biting back a laugh that would ruin her authoritative image that already has a pretty strong effect on Chloe and can be felt with the legs straddling over the middle of her thigh.

" _Best_ I ever had," Chloe repeats her previous words in a low seductive whisper.

"Say it... _again_ ," Beca growls with a wolfish smirk as she tries to lean up and capture Chloe's lips, but they move out of reach before she has the chance to.

"You...are...something...else…in...bed... _m'lady_ ," Chloe mumbles, each word punctuated with a chaste kiss to Beca's puckered lips. "Definitely third date material."

"Wait until I show you just how I score myself a fourth date."

Chloe shivers eager at the words, cheeks now a scarlet color and Beca can't help but internally thank her lucky stars that she found her smooth game deep inside all her insecurities to finally make Chloe blush, because hands down is it the greatest accomplishment and sight to witness.

Bouncing back pretty quickly, "so, DJ," Chloe coos, red haired draping over both hers and Beca's face as she leans back down over the brunette. Her hands cup the outside of Beca's jaw, thumb brushing along the structure in a feathered motion. "Still think I'm not into you?"

Combing the sheet of red hair back to hook behind an ear with the free hand that isn't tracing invisible patterns along Chloe's ribs, Beca sighs out heavily, going with voicing opposite of what she really thinks. "If I say yes?" she challenges with her signature smirk.

Seeming to be prepared for this answer, Chloe bites her bottom lip, eyes glued to Beca's curved up mouth. "Then I would say something like...I'd _love_ to prove you wrong." Chloe leaves a fragile kiss to mark over Beca's mouth; a kiss so light it didn't even feel like their skin touched.

"You going to keep kissing me until I finally believe you?" Beca shoots up a brow, crooked smile still plastered over her mouth.

"That...and I had a few other things in mind." Purposely, Chloe slips on of her hands down under the silky black sheet covering both hers and Beca's lower half, nails scraping against Beca's clenching stomach muscles and stopping to tease just before her fingers cross over dangerous territory that is seen by the squirming going on in Beca's legs the closer she gets and the added puffs of anticipation in Beca's breathing pattern.

"What would you say then?" she arches a challenging brow and a twin devilish smirk, hitting a high enough intimidation level that Beca can't help but admire all the sexiness within.

"Then I'd tell you what are you waiting for?" Beca retorts in a whisper ghosted over Chloe's lips, their mouths mirroring each other's crooked smiles until they close the remaining distance between in a passionate kiss that knocks all the wind out of her body, as if she just stepped foot in negative degree weather.

Kissing Chloe is perfect, Beca has came to a conclusion, as she said before, also kissing Chloe has to be one of her favorite things to do now that she's finally got a taste of something so magical.

And yes, maybe Chloe is perfect in every way possible and she is one to fully admit perfect will never **ever** be a word to use under her name and characteristic traits. But together with Chloe-kissing Chloe, hugging Chloe, simply just talking to Chloe; she feels for the first time that, perhaps, perfect is a lot closer than she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gold star to anyone who can guess the two movie references ;)  
> THANKS AGAIN FOR READING! LOVE YOU ALL!

**Author's Note:**

> Part two and the final installment soon time very soon, my friends!
> 
> Performance I used for Chloe's routine was the Celtics vs. Heat game if you type in "Miami Heat Dancers" on Youtube, just FYI if interested in a visual performance :)


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